Sometimes she would wake up in a sweat after dreaming about it. Then spend the rest of the day trying to let it pass over her, like a cloud. This cloud was heavy. And dark. It was going to rain soon. She didn't have a clue what to throw up against this storm. There was no doorway open. There was no umbrella. Just her, in an open field. In a transparent skirt. Watching the front. Coming to her.

She overheard her dad one time, talking to her mom. Her mom was complaining about the way things had turned out. Her dad had said, "Have you ever gotten old and died before?" Her mom had just looked at him. The way she did. "Then leave me alone." The way he did.

Perhaps that was it. She just needed to be left alone during this time of not knowing.

Precious gifts were in her hand. She knew that much. But the giving would be the hardest part. They would hurt her when she gave it to them. They didn't think of it like she did, and no one was there to tell her why.

Her dad had said, "They just want to take it from you and they don't care about you. Believe me. I was a boy not so long ago." Her mom said nothing. The complaints from her mom were beginning to make sense. Just a little.

So she offered it up to a few. And it could not have been less spectacular.

Then she narrowed it down to a handful, and decided to claim her stake here. She would either determine the source of constant craving with these, or she would take herself off the market.

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