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She thought the day would never come. She had forgotten what it was like, and began to believe there was no such thing, at least for her. In this lifetime she might not ever have one again, that feeling that was so familiar as a child, for weeks at a time. Months, even. She thought the only way would be to go back to school and become a teacher, since they're the only ones who get it. But it wouldn't be enough so she would have to work summers and that would negate the whole idea. She thought about what was happening to her and began to identify with prisoners on television. She thought, "I know what they're going through. It's hell." This feeling had to end because she was losing her lease on life. Feeling sad and depressed and hateful, she sat at her desk, went to Google pics, and vacationed. She went to Cabo and Jamaica in one day. The Netherlands the next, because the name was so appealing. In her mind, all these places were keys to freedom from the desk she dreaded day in and day out. She believed she could create a life where travel and freedom existed on the plane of reality. She packed her bags, dressed in gray, and slipped out the back door. The man was waiting to escort her to her dream. Death waved hello. She smiled at her knowing one day they would be very good friends.
