She married the heir was what they said. I was four, already in love with the ballroom’s cornices, the bride’s dress. What I heard was married the air. I chose my future then. The air is a good provider. He has given me one house of sky, one house of silk. I love his hands in my hair. He loves my untouched arches. Every … Continue reading ‘The Aerialist’ by Cheryl Pearson