Alina Gregorian

The Boats They Carried

We carried our boats through the forest. Through a condition known as reality. We convinced ourselves that happiness exists: that forging through the thicket is a badge that makes us human.

The accountants agree that columns of numbers keep us peaceful. That numbers are analogies for understanding confusion in the world. And communication only makes sense when you have something beautiful to say.

But for us it’s about entering the forest carrying boats and backpacks. Backpacks with a lot of zippers. Backpacks filled with phones we’ve owned since high school.

When the forest turns into an ocean, we’ll set our boats down. We’ll paint the anchors red and give ourselves names. We’ll stand near our boats with cell phones around our feet.

We’ll pull the sky down and call it a day.