Craving Flesh

by littlesarahbigworld

Just two this time, both of which speak to my recent experiences, surprisingly.

“And it’s not that I’m lying, not that the chicken roasting doesn’t smell like home, that the cat purring on the kitchen counter doesn’t sound like comfort, that my husband’s embrace doesn’t feel like love. It’s not that at all. It’s just that the world was feeling bigger to me, and here it begins to seem small, sometimes.”

“I speak in the sparkling voice I’ve found myself employing since I arrived in Argentina, the flirtatious, humorous tone of an American Dame. Traveling by myself is so far proving to be rather like playing dress-up. No one here knows anything about me, so I can be anyone I want.”

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