Fourteen

I was finally in a land of unicorns; a land of yellow horizons. Angels lovely as one could imagine at last looked down upon me and smiled, while dragons thorny and crusted as old barbed wire drew angry circles in the sky, waiting for tacit permission to swoop and burn.

Gone were the cubicles, the blue fluorescent bulbs humming their torturous 60-cycle tune, the insipid Nothing on the other end of the tumorous Blackberry, the smell of mold and chemicals blotting all else out. I may be nothing more than a meat packet, an organic support system for a brain now infected with lesions of wire and crystalline circuitry, but I was free. I was free.

Adelynn may never know what became of me. I hope she doesn’t.