by Laura Merleau<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Saved by the empty<\/span> <\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n Laura Merleau lives in Texas with her mother, sister, and puppy Gracie. She taught AP <\/span>Language and Composition at a high school in China for five years, during which time she <\/span>visited Tibet and made it to Mount Everest Base Camp. Laura enjoys doing yoga and writing and <\/span>illustrating children\u2019s books.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
sky. Saved by the<\/span>
formless triangular<\/span>
notes absently playing<\/span>
over the clouds.<\/span>
Without looking<\/span>
up. Without listening.<\/span>
You know another<\/span>
you among your<\/span>
repertoire of yous.<\/span>
The sky flickers and<\/span>
stops again. It<\/span>
is like screaming,<\/span>
Dammit! but nobody<\/span>
tells you to calm<\/span>
down, there\u2019s no<\/span>
reason to get so<\/span>
upset over nothing,<\/span>
over nothing, over<\/span>
this sinking feeling<\/span>
you may have to<\/span>
live forever.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
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