An Author's Afterthoughts

“You're always you, and that don't change, and you're always changing, and there's nothing you can do about it.” – Neil Gaiman

Outside was an unreachable place to the young girl. It wasn’t in reality. Her parents made it seem that way. What they told her was the most horrible thing she ever heard in her brief life. But she saw the animals on their farm, and they seemed harmless to her. Some looked cute, like the rabbits they kept by the back door.

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The alley cats ran for their lives as a fifty pound mass of fur barring its teeth charged their way. They knew exactly where to go, not being the first time the K-9 invaded their territory. Some would jump onto a dumpster, others took refuge by climbing a nearby telephone pole, landing on top of a building, the last would just run down the alleyway, knowing the mutt wasn't as smart as some of the humans might think. Once all the cats had disappeared, the dog lost interest, and continued his way down the street.

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I remember when I first joined the Midworld program. They were tying to give cripples like me full mobility again. But, like every product a company offered, they all had trials runs. I was one of the first ten chosen. I wasn't in an accident, my legs just didn't work. To worsen it, their growth was stunted when I was twelve, everybody thought I looked like a freak, and I agree. Trust me, we all get used to it.

I was considered the class clown back in school. I loved doing tricks in my wheelchair, whether it was doing wheelies in the middle of the hallway, or going to the skate park and going down the steepest ramp I could find. But I could never find a way to climb any stairs without crawling up them (yes, I've done that).

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