By Bacopa Literary Review Creative Nonfiction Editor Stephanie Seguin
Above all else, when reading through entries for the creative nonfiction category, I am looking to be moved. What I love about this category is the ability it provides to see into some small part of another person’s life and feel connected.
"Sh'mot (Names) / Exodus (The Way Out)" by Hailee Nielsen moved me to tears. This piece was something of a departure from my usual taste. I tend toward the more straightforward and Nielsen’s writing is quite abstract. The seemingly disparate images throughout are welded together with words evoking either parched throat or flowing water.
We are all hopeful that later I will learn how to pry my own words from the back of my throat. Sundays: I turn over every translation and iteration of the Word like a soft stone in my hands, many voices preaching a single Truth. This is where I learn rote memorization. Twenty years later in medical school, I come to a body at a table in a hospital classroom, and I am already well-versed in versions of Bibles and bodies, brimming with steely reverence for the multiplicity of truth.
This short piece begins parched in the desert and ends deep in the water. The ending passage took my breath away.
When night comes, I am joined by other figures holding truths. I meet you here, as I stand in the river beneath constellations and infinity, pant legs rolled to the knee. I want to learn to swim, and you know how to swim. From you, a gift: myself, unbaptized, in an ocean with you, mouths open and eyes shut.
Like I was taught to pray.
About the contributor: Hailee Nielsen grew up in rural Michigan and lives in Ann Arbor with their two cats. Their work has previously appeared in Smokelong Quarterly, and in the 2020 Issue of Bacopa Literary Review.
You can read their story in the 2023 Edition of Bacopa Literary Review, where you can purchase at this link here.
