I'm hopeless as a poet.'She closes his laptop and looks at him, still frowning. 'You're putting trivia ahead of substance. Your focus is on rhythm and...rhyme instead of myth, magic, and metaphor. Get over that, and you'll be brilliant.' He is surprised but says nothing. 'I'm not giving up on you. I love you for more than your poetry. You prayed for someone you never met. For that alone, I will cherish you for as long as I live. Think it over.' 'I'll think about it.' He doesn't look up or say. I focused on the bloody mess after Bill Mack fired his pistol. Each time I watched him kill himself I was happy that he would never abuse anyone else.I was planning to take my time finding the school but even though I was hardly trying I found the school quickly. This time I went to the kindergarten play area and tried to stay there. I explored the area without any disorienting flashes. I kept telling myself ‘easy steps – take easy steps.’ I walked (that was the wrong word, I was not physically. More

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