A person of Neshiyah
Yael Sharon, child
Child
Yael Sharon
Child, about 6 years old. This is the second life this soul has lived in Neshiyah.
Yael Sharon, at nine days old, is a knot of restless energy swaddled in muslin, a face that scrunches against the world’s brightness and then fixes on you with an unnerving, steady gaze. They are slow to settle, quick to cry, and yet when Rivka hums, Yael’s fury drains into a watchful stillness, cataloging every shadow. At work—which is to say, at the breast and in the cot—they fret against stillness, fists pumping as if testing the air’s truth. Their one habit is gnawing their own knuckle until it reddens, a stubborn inquiry. They want the next sound, the next face. The town calls them Rivka’s little question mark, already certain this one will never take the fog at face value.
Temperament
Curious to a fault; slow to believe anyone; hot-tempered; friendly enough; never still.
What people say
Yael Sharon 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 49 Yael Sharon and Kenan Amir came to blows at the square over nothing much.
- day 46 Rivka Sharon says that their new daughter, Yael Sharon, wakes from sleep repeating words no one taught: "the fog is just fog."
- day 46 A daughter, Yael Sharon, was born to Rivka Sharon.