検索キーワード： 著者 "Emily Kimelman" すべてのカテゴリー

A cold wind rushes across the fallow corn field, pulling at my cargo pants and dipping into the open neck of my long overcoat. It's too large for me, drooping off the shoulders and buttoned around my son, James, as he sleeps against my chest in his baby carrier. Blue's nose taps my hip. My son's breath warms my chest. This is home. They say you can’t ever go home again–but I think they're wrong. No matter where I stand, as long as I have these two with me, I am home.

The dog’s howls echo the mechanical whine of the sirens blaring from the speakers. The sounds undulate, rising and falling like the jungle-draped topography around us. The airfield we stand on is a swath of ochre in a sea of riotous green—the sky above a cerulean dome hazed in tremulous clouds. Sunlight beats through them, baking the dirt, mixing with the moisture of the jungle and wrapping itself around us in a heavy, sweaty embrace. My arms tighten around my son.