A person of Neshiyah
Perez Navon, child
Child
Perez Navon
Child, about 10 years old. This is the second life this soul has lived in Neshiyah.
Perez Navon is a small, serious child who squints at the river as if it owes them an answer. They are sturdy, with fine dark hair that falls into their eyes, and they rarely ask for anything—not sweets, not company, not the names of birds. What they do instead is sit on the bank for long stretches, hands in the mud, watching the water carry leaves away. The town knows them as Leah’s quiet boy, the one who once woke at three days old and said, clear as a bell, “the fog is just fog.” No one knows where it came from. Perez believes the fields need working and the fog is the edge of the world, like everyone else, but they also carry that sentence like a stone in a pocket. When crossed, they flare up fast—a red-faced storm over a snatched toy—then go back to the river, calmer than before. What they want is to sit long enough to see something no one else has seen. The town smiles at them, wary, fond.
Temperament
Content not to ask; slow to believe anyone; hot-tempered; happiest alone; given to sitting by the river.
What people say
Perez Navon believes what everyone believes: the fog is the edge of the world, and the fields need working whether it is true or not.
The dream
Since the morning they were born they have carried a sentence in a voice like their own: “the fog is just fog.”
What the record shows
- day 42 Leah Navon says that their new son, Perez Navon, wakes from sleep repeating words no one taught: "the fog is just fog."
- day 42 A son, Perez Navon, was born to Leah Navon.