Maya’s brow furrowed. “Who are you?”
Maya nodded. She had been pulled through so many lives — each one teaching her patience, a gentleness she’d not noticed in herself before. The top in her hand had stopped humming; it was quiet again, the painted faces now warm with new stories stitched into their grain. maya jackandjill top
That evening, she wound the string once more, not to travel, but to hear the old bell-note in the room and remember how to slow down when life spun too fast. Maya’s brow furrowed