They said I'd lost what it meant to be human. Maybe I never had it in the first place. But wasn't this about protecting the ones I loved, the ones who gave me food and shelter, even the clothes on me back.
Eventually, you can read soils and rocks like books. I've watched gravel fade. Dust settled into crust. I've seen drips of water turn to stone that defied gravity. I've turned blood red with cave mud. I've been a bloody rock.
What I best recall is riding alone with the sun behind me, seeing my own shadow cantering ahead against roadside weeds and willows, and leaving me stretched far behind, galloping to chase it, like a centaur in the picture books.
I wore it seriously, my hero sash of green and gold, proof that i've saved a life as well.
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