MEMORY OF SMALLNESS
Despite the many years you've traveled from that very first day, you've carried the smallness with you everywhere, and with it the smell of crayons, and carousel music. It is a distant lullaby you can barely remember but remain haunted by its sparkling melody. Despite yourself, you remember. The time your parents guests arrived and you felt excited by all the commotion. Everyone was laughing and talking largely with their hands far above your head. You craned your neck in order to see over the table. No one noticed you. No one ever noticed you when the party got rolling. So, naturally you assumed that you're invisible. An indistinguishable speck of dust drifting unnoticed around the room. But with time you managed to fill the room and forget these distant echoes of pain. Now you are bigger than the table and bigger than the chair and don't need all five fingers to hold a fork, but inside the smallness endures, playing hide and seek with your consciousness. You are tall enough to see past all the fences in your neighbourhood, but you will always carry the memory of smallness tucked under your heart. Sometimes in the midst of talking and laughter you find yourself suddenly wondering whether they can see you at all. Whether you're really even distinguishable from the shimmering dust that fills the air between you and them.