Flyover State

Sebastian and Miranda scurried out of the shade to their makeshift white board, a section of ground where they'd used branches and whatever detritus was at hand to spell out the word, "HELP!" But the passenger plane was too high and too fast to notice them amid the long expanse of nothingness that constituted their home.

They both sighed and trudged back to their seats. Sebastian took a sip of his coffee while Miranda crunched down on her avocado toast.

"I don't think anyone is coming to save us."

"As long as we have NPR on the radio, we'll survive."

The Turning Point

The crash jolted them awake, as they careened into the seats in front of them. Later, the doctors would say that the fact they'd been asleep upon impact is what saved them. 27 dead, only two survivors.

The siblings would always look back at that bus crash as the turning point. Not the decision to run away, not what they were running away from, but the accident that sent them to the hospital, months of rehabilitation, and then life in a foster home.

For Megan, it was the perfect escape. For Matthew, he'd forever regret not having died that night.

Keeping Up Appearances

Several seats were open at the bar and I sat next to an elderly lady. "Don’t forget Michelle’s dinner," I thought.

“How do you do?” the lady asked.

“Pretty well. Just getting home from work. How are you?”

“I’m well, thanks. Where do you work?”

“I work as a counselor,” I said. I was a peer counselor but I didn’t want to disclose my diagnosis.

“What’s your focus?”

“Psychotic disorders.”

“I feel so bad for those poor people,” she said as she looked at her glass.

“Oh, I dunno, you’d be surprised. Some of them do better than you think.”

From Guest Contributor Steve Colori