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L.R. Knost

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“The problem with the plague of 1994, really, was that unlike so many other diseases, it refused to occur and remain 'out there' in the rural areas. Nor would it confine itself to urban slums. Plague germs are notorious for their non-observance of class distinctions. Methods are yet to be devised to prevent their entry into the elite areas of South Bombay or South Delhi.”

“The first person to really speak to me was Andy, which was lucky, since he was the least crazy. He stank, but I suspected I did too. I never took off my clothes, always ready for fight or flight, needing to feel a little armoured. Deodorant was a luxury I couldn't afford, and I wasn't about to attempt a bath in a room that didn't lock, and which was always in high demand. Not to mention that there was no plug for the tub, or hand soap, or towels, or curtain, or mat.”

“Right now, I am in my own shadow. It is dark and lonely. I am a nightwalker trying to find the light within me somewhere. I can’t find myself in my own shadow. Well, what do I expect? My heart is cold. Hope has played with my emotions one too many times, and the only thing I can count on as of right now is my shadow. I do not have anything in life. I am a soul that is trying to find my way. Where am I going? I do not know. Everything has been taken from me, but they cannot take my shadow, and they cannot own my name.”

“Dear Darkness, I am in a dark room, and the moon is nowhere in sight. I knew it was going to leave me again. Well, I guess it is not fair for me to assume. A little while ago, it was traveling side-by-side with me. The moon is my best friend. Maybe it is sad and looking for me too. It feels good to know someone cares. I hope the moon feels my energy and knows that I am okay—for now anyways. I have faith that I will see it tomorrow. This room is depressing. The girls here are afraid. I feel them staring at me. My hands are shivering, and I am cold. My fingers begin to feel like icicles. Once again, I will not rest tonight. I have so much on my mind. I wish someone would tell me it would be alright. I wish someone would tell me that I am not alone. The walls in this small room are closing in on me. It is hard for me to breathe. I am too young, but who cares. I am just another nobody that they never see. Just when I was losing the will to fight. I reached in my pocket—I cannot see what I am pulling out, but I would know the texture of a dandelion anywhere. Dear dandelion, you and the moon are my family. I am making a wish for you to keep Kace safe from harm. I know nobody will ever tell me this, but please let Kace know everything will be alright and that I am with him, and he is not alone. Thank you. Good night moon. Good night dandelion. All is well within my soul because I know you two are here.”