Semi-Daily Scribbles

The doctor's hand was cold and rough. 1Lillian was upset she had to put her favorite book down to humor the test-givers. She couldn't understand why they didn't accept her story. Dancers, drifters, and dreamers inhabited the grey lands where she was born. Everyone knows the last thing dancers, drifters, and dreamers do is stay in one place for very long. 1Lillian was skilled in the art of the toss, the bounce, the kick, the shuffle. These steps reverberated frontways and backwards to create the ephemeral perfect moment. Lucky plans are hatched in the chasm between ONE-MISSISSIPPI TWO-MISSISSIPPI. That's how 1Lillian ended up in a dull-hued waiting room with the hot pepper spark of retrocausality on her lips. She knew in the next cube over, 2Lillian was left in peace to read. Bittersweet comfort that was to 1Lillian. The far-flung Lillians would never meet, but each iteration felt her skin stretched thinner in the solemn hour of forgotten knowledge.