Slowly, With Many Lost Days, I Come

I Have Two Older Sisters And One Older Brother And Hold Them Largely Responsible For The Trouble I Got Into Growing Up. I Believe As The Youngest Child, That Is My Right.

A Hysterical Young Woman With Flowing Brown Hair Is Also Called From 4, But She's Quickly Replaced By A Volunteer, An Eighty-year-old Woman Who Needs A Cane To Walk To The Stage.

I’m In A Shallow Hole, Not Filled With The Humming Orange Bubbles Of My Hallucination But With Old, Dead Leaves.

All The General Fear I've Been Feeling Condenses Into An Immediate Fear Of This Girl, This Predator Who Might Kill Me In Seconds. Adrenaline Shoots Through Me And I Sling The Pack Over One Shoulder And Run Full-speed For The Woods. I Can Hear The Blade Whistling Toward Me And Reflexively Hike The Pack Up To Protect My Head. The Blade Lodges In The Pack. Both Straps On My Shoulders Now, I Make For The Trees. Somehow I Knew The Girl Will Not Pursue Me. That She'll Be Drawn Back Into The Cornucopia Before All The Good Stuff Is Gone. A Grin Crosses My Face. Thanks For The Knife, I Think.

Stay With Me. Always.