When we don’t speak, said Edgar, we become unbearable, and when we do, we make fools of ourselves.
— Herta Müller, from The Land of Green Plums, trans. Michael Hofmann
[But now, I am also learning this: we can be mended.] We mend each other.
[I have no home, no path, and no certainty. I am no longer Tris, the selfless, or Tris, the brave.] I suppose that now, I must become more than either.
Then the shouting begins.