By Anneli Matheson

Before the loaf of sourdough can be sliced, slathered in butter, and shared, it’s this: a bog of bacteria, air, and time.  It bubbles and rises in a recycled pickle jar I plucked from the bin as a perfect incubator. 

Before friendship can start we must sift through the bog of our heart space. You decide to want more than to remain separate, warm, and safe. I make peace with the fact that my past hurt and doubt bubbles beside my present hunger and delight.  

It takes time, but we both choose transformation and become something new together. 

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Anneli Matheson holds an MFA in Creative Writing from City University in Hong Kong.  Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Barely South Review, The Other Journal, Hawaii Pacific Review, The Ilanot Review, and Sweet Literary, among others.  She lives in Chattanooga, Tennessee.  Connect with her here: https://bio.site/amathesonwrites