Homesickness hits without warning and without apology, walking across campus, waking up, chopping vegetables, turning a page, then BAM! It hits you in the place it knows will hurt the most, and in those moments, I am glad my heart was built inside a ribbed cage, packed in muscle, bound in tendon and ligament, stretched with skin. Otherwise, it would have burst out long ago. A small but fierce heart, all muscle and moxie, flopping across England and then cannonballing into the Atlantic to flail its way home to Tennessee. It wouldn’t have gotten halfway there before being splattered by a train or chomped by shark. Meanwhile, all that would be left of me would be a corpse, chest gaping, ribs jutting, veins and arteries sprouting— you know, your everyday Aztec sacrifice reproduction.
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