flâneur

Grief is a Bird in an Airport - by Simran Varma

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On grief that doesn't fit.

As I write this in an airport, I am staring at a bird flying overhead. I think: this is it. Grief is a bird stuck in an airport. The aggressive fluttering of wings against this structure, so big, so little, trying to find a way out, trying to find a way back. What people do not tell you is that a bird stuck in an airport is most likely to make a home out of it. Forever staring at the automatic doors, meeting and parting. The sky feels terrifying to someone who has learned the size of the airport. But the doors keep opening. On the 3rd of June, it was my brother’s and my turn to stay with…

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