Cover Photo: Tallulah Pomeroy
Tallulah Pomeroy

Decades After Foster Care, I Found My Long-Lost Brother

“If I’d stayed, I could have protected him. That’s what I believed. Maybe he believed that, too.”

I run in a circle in a wooded place. Run with the others, yoked together, lumbering in darkness, moving faster and faster, circling, stumbling, and driven, flying around and around in an endless loop. A monster slithers alongside, chasing us. Body of a snake with the head of a bear, roaring and raging with remorse and loss, remembrance and longing and fear—sheer animal terror.

I move faster. Gallop away. Leave the circle behind; abandon my spot, afraid the ancient animal after us will get me, bite me, and I’ll fall down, and forget, and the circle will dissolve forever and ever.

I only want to know if you’re happy and well.

Let’s meet at noon for coffee and go from there.

I’m here in the corner. Alone.

Almost there.

I’m inside

Here I am, give me money, I need a new transmission, more gas, a co-signature on my lease

belonging

thank you for caring what happened to me.

I love you, I’m so glad I found you, take care of yourself

No, I haven’t found him yet.

We know you haveTell him to get in touch with uswe know him, we R his real sisters, we never left.

I don’t know what U R talking about. I haven’t found him yet

Chris J. Rice earned an MFA from California Institute of the Arts. Her writing has been included in wigleaf’s top 50 (very) short fiction, nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and named a prizewinner in Hunger Mountain’s 2016 Creative Non-Fiction contest. She has been published in [PANK] Online, Pithead Chapel, and The Rumpus, among other literary magazines. She currently lives in Los Angeles.
More About: People, Generations