Fragments of me are scattered – under Michigan elm trees, mixed into Georgia
red clay, and rushing down storm drains with the California rain.
People shake their heads and whisper their doubts into the blackness, saying I
am too broken, unable to be repaired.
I know I cannot ever be whole again, but I try to forge together what can be
I make a new masterpiece, still breakable but stronger.
People blanch at the foreign sight, unable to accept my new reality.
I leave them behind to see if I can be happy under a new sun.
Yong Takahashi won the Chattahoochee Valley Writers National Short Story Contest and the Writer's Digest's Write It Your Way Contest. She also was runner up in the Gemini Magazine Short Story Contest and Georgia Writers Association Flash Fiction Contest. Some of her works appear in Cactus Heart, Crab Fat Magazine, Emerge Literary Journal, Flash Fiction Magazine, Gemini Magazine, Hamilton Stone Review, Meat For Tea, River & South Review, Rusty Nail Magazine, Spilt Infinitive, and Twisted Vines.