Because holidays with the family aren't always easy:
We Are Made of Star Stuff
She becomes the chair she sits in, the drapes on the window, the wallpaper, the wall. She doesn’t get to fall apart. She gets to absorb, to recalibrate. She isn’t going to yell. In fact, she isn’t even going to cry (she hopes). And she knows she isn’t going to leave. She has nothing to threaten with. She becomes the chair she sits in.
beneath the morning moon
"We Are Made of Star Stuff," copyright 2018 Amelia Cotter (Editor’s Choice, Haibun, cattails April 2018 Edition)