Home by Kateri Ransom
My home is miles away from my home. The four walls I grew up in, that trapped in the heat, and played music when we cleaned, and danced after Friday night movies, and served Eggos on frosty school mornings, and carpeted the piss of eight dogs, and took sucker punches to its walls like the acne on my chin, were a three day drive away from the only land of my ancestors I could ever rub between my toes.
Once a year, we’d make the three day trek out to see our home. I’d watch out my window the
whole way. But that earth was not under my house. It was always a dreamland far, far away.
The rest of me lives over stolen land. Someone else’s home— ghost’s home. Flesh and blood’s home, wandering somewhere, wondering somewhere.
I planted wildflowers on the side of my house. Most of them didn’t make it through the winters. But one purple flower springs up after every frost. It reaches on a thick green stem towards the sky. It surprises me every time I see it.
Kateri Ransom is a writer and dance educator living in Santa Barbara, CA. She works in
children’s publishing with NDE Media Group, while teaching dance and co-running YG Book
Club on the side. You can find more of her writing on Painted Cave Literary Magazine and Z
Publishing’s California’s Emerging Writers: An Anthology of Fiction.