The Traveler You reconstruct me so cheerfully. To you it is an act of love: to find me as I once was, to return me to it. There, see? A woman on a train. See, of course, her pearl necklace! There she is, reading a newspaper. She clutches her umbrella. Look, see, she is not so broken! But when someone comes by and sees not a woman but a ruined city smoldering or a spring lake in thaw or a curtain rising or a ransacked ship keeping to its course or Mt. Sinai with its holy thunder, do not correct them. Only listen. Christy Lee Barnes Christy Lee Barnes has published writing in Prairie Schooner, Cream City Review, Cagibi, McSweeneys, Spillway, Tin House online, and elsewhere. She's an educator originally from Los Angeles who now lives in Seattle with her husband and one-year-old son.
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September 2023
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