The Twilight Twenty-Five
Pen name: poppyandpeony
She sits in coach, knees brushing the seat in front of her, listening to a taped-together CD player, not knowing that this very moment can be traced back to that morning.
She remembers waking, gasping and sweaty from a strange dream.
She does not remember the mossy green forest, pale cold hands, and soft voice telling her to
She squints out the window, touches the glass, and says goodbye to the bronze and ochre painted over Phoenix.
But she will see them soon.
This time, in the face of a boy.
And she will dream of him again.