I smile as I imagine myself rolling out of bed at the first sign of sunlight. In this fantasy, I hop up, glide to my closet, slip into my favorite dress, and start the day with a strong cup of coffee. But when I awake, reality hits me. I see my sagging, spotted skin. I can't feel my legs or wiggle my toes. I'm exhausted, as usual. I notice how gray and drizzly it is outside of my fifth story window. My smile sinks to my chin.
"Magna!" I cry out in agitation. She doesn't respond, so I count to myself. One...two...three...four...
Suddenly, I hear the rattling of keys outside of the door. She must have been out for a walk. I feel a pit forming in the bottom of my stomach. “Magna?” I call again.
“Hey, Pearl,” she replies casually as she walks into my bedroom, squeezing the water from her hair with a towel. “Ready to get dressed?”
“I suppose,” I respond. I look up into her twenty-year-old face. A green haze distorts my vision.
“Let’s get you into your chair,” Magna says to me. I extend my arms, and she hoists me up, carries me across the room, and sets me down. I hate this sad, old thing, but at least it gives me some mobility. I roll my chair to the window and look out over the block. I hear a loud, rumbling sound in the distance, quickly approaching. A couple of seconds later, two large trucks speed right past Finch Pointe. One turns down King, and the other disappears out of sight.
“Incredible,” I sigh as I drift back into dreamland.
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