They sprouted years ago in a field of four leaf clovers. Their legs extended into roots that bore miles into the ground. They threaded so intricately that they netted the entire mass of earth between their farthest points. The roots were their kite string tethering them to the ground, but the twins struggled relentlessly to free themselves. Each morning they coiled around each other and sunk their untrimmed nails into the ground to hold position. And each evening the roots responded. Torqued from the ground they retreated a few inches from yesterday's depths. The twins salivated for freedom and their hunger kept them working. Escape was imminent.

Photo credit: Lissy Elle Laricchia

We told stories of him sitting in his rusted out rocking chair high atop the atmosphere and how he was able to watch us all. We imagined that he never left his chair and as a result became fixed to it, his clothes covered in rusty soot that resembled the color, taste, and smell of dried blood. Cecilia suggested he had special horn-rimmed glasses that allowed him to see through the Earth with just a thin plane of pulled cotton separating the civilizations on either side. Cecilia and I would always argue about whether someone down below could disappear by standing directly under someone on the Earth up top. I said she was ridiculous but I thought about it constantly.

Photo credit: Lissy Elle Laricchia