She imagined her friends, mostly in the dark time just before dawn. They’d do all sorts of wonderful things, a mix of shopping, tea parties, facials, manicures. Their talk would be pithy, full of verve. Her friends would fawn over her fine bone structure, the thickness of her hair, the strength and durability of her French-manicured nails. She would watch out the window, the rising sun beginning to pain the darkness in color, and invent another life, free from the one she currently lived.
Her thoughts helped liberate her from the chair, the 24-hour care, the cerebral palsy that trapped a beautifully sharp and witty mind.