Boxedupbrilliance
I remember very little from my childhood. There are passing glimpses, sometimes, of fresh grass and daisies. When I close my eyes, I feel love. Love. Love. When I think harder, I remember selling lemonade on the road for 25 cents. I made 25 cents that day.
The pupils of her eyes dilated as she realized something. Maybe it was the air. Maybe it was the sea- the cold sea foam covered swells that would slowly creep into her mind. Maybe it was the town. Maybe it was the time. I don't know, but in that moment, she realized she wasn't very significant at all.
And that's when I knew that I was brain dead. I could feel, look, and touch everything. I could move, but I could not think. I could look, but I could not see. And I knew that the second I looked at the television and saw the static screen.
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