June 17, 2010
Sheryl paused to catch her breath halfway across Pendleton Bridge. She leaned over the railing, watching the prisoner ship sail into the sunset as the last decade came into focus: professorship, liberation and an endless period recovery. She tugged on the bill of her cap, freeing her long, voluptuous hair. Another runner closed on her fast, so she disappeared into the growing shadows. Her eyes, two brilliant flames, flickered as visibility was donned over her again like a sweatshirt. Sheryl continued gazing at the horizon, reorganizing her thoughts--immortality would have to be reattained by more measured means next time.