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Finding Peace

Finding Peace. This journal belongs to: Hannah Peace . 1922.

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Finding Peace

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  1. Finding Peace This journal belongs to: Hannah Peace

  2. 1922 Today I cut my han’, and it got me to thinkin. Han’s… everybody has two. They seem simple enough. Used for tasks, and other such things. Han’s are not what confuse me… it’s touch. They says a touch can make a difference, that touch can control emotions. Simple things like hold’nhan’s can come to mean somethin’. No matta how many men I touch, they leave nothinbehin’, an take nothin with. That’s why I’s is always careful with my touch. When I fix to lead a man I’s never intertwine my fingas with his. I find a simple han grab has the effect I’s lookin for. Maybe this is why I neva feel no thing towards no one… This cut on my han gives me mo’ feelin’s than any man eva did…

  3. 1922 My Pantry Cool, n’ dark Where I preserve my memories Jus’ as I preserve my fru’t Every shelf hold’nsomethindiff’rent Always begins with a spark This is where I keeps my enemies Though I neva shoot For I ask them to be sent To my pantry A pantry of memories Of fruit An’ inner demons

  4. My Brother’s Spoon1922 My mother and I foun’ my brother’s spoon today.

  5. 1922 Plum died just las’ year an today I ask’d mamma about it. Been awhile since I thought ‘bout my brother. Plum gon’ an’ lost his identity when he went off to war. I fin’ it hard to see him in my min’ anymore. My own brother… the only man who I eva loved… gone. An’ I can’t even remember his face… how dark were his eyes, how wide was his mouth, and his lips? Maybe he ain’tgon’. Maybe he will com’ back. Jus’ like the Kentucky Wonders. First they sink, but only to rise back up to the surface. My brother a Kentucky Wonderer? No… My brother the phoenix. Jus’ as the water gives life back to the Kentucky Wonders, the fir’ shall give life back to my brother… If only I could remember his face…

  6. 1923 I wonder if I would miss this ol’ house if somethin were to happ’n. The steps leadin’ up to the front door, the window mamma always looks out of, and that porch… Would I even miss my pantry? Maybe I would do bett’r without those memories. Maybe there is a way to beg’n again. Sula is strong, n’ we are not much of a mother daughter pare any how. I wond’r where my brother is in his new life… free of this ol’ house, and those memories inside.

  7. 1923 Last nigh’ I had a dream that I was in a weddin dress. I neva thought too much about gettin married. Neva foun’ a man worth gettin dressed up fo’. But in my dream, I’s was beautiful. I was wearin a long red dress, with the train stretchin as far as the eye could see. It was a deep red, like the tips of flames lickin’ my body from my shoulders to my toes. Mamma didn’t say much about it, but someday everyone will be seein me in a red dress, everyone’s eyes will be on me as I walk down the aisle… one o’ these days. Even if my brother won’ be there to see it…

  8. 1923 Have you evawatch’d a match burn? It consumes the small piece of wood, then goes out. Leavin the wood blacken’d. The wood is chang’d, but not gone. Fir’ consumes my every thought. Fir’ consumes me…

  9. There is no peace for me here…Not in this life…

  10. The End • Inspiration from Toni Morrison’s Sula • All illustrations by Kaitlyn Williams

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