A small girl age 8, wearing a white nightgown, wandered through a drying cornfield beyond the period of light. Carcasses of nature left to rot. A boy much older than her was following close behind. A good friend, unsure of their path or reason. He asked continuously where they were going. She kept telling him they were going somewhere safe. Into the indistinguishable lines of a child's imagination and a grown man's disappointments. She walked with the confidence to find Heaven's lights. A joy so precious and easily stolen as she walked barefoot, without fear or shame.
When she turned back around, she peaked a glance at her footprints in the mud.
She saw men calling her by the name of Lucifer's child.
False angels reaching for her ear to whisper, "You are dead".
She saw pills mixed in with the dirt. They grew into weeds, too fast for her to catch on without shock.
Chunks of broken plywood tore through the wet soil.
She could hear the sounds of clattering nails in glass jars.
She saw the