The Safekeep

How quickly did the belly of despair turn itself over into hope, the give of the skin of overripe fruit.

He had the energy of a poked animal—something that looked like annoyance but felt like danger.

Isabel’s shame turned itself over into something more familiar: anger took its worn seat.

She was not wanted. That was the long and the short of it: she had learned want, briefly and hungrily. A span of a day, two days. She had learned the shape of it, the quick taste of it. She had reached out, foolishly, and she was not wanted in return.