How Long and Far
by Tricia Louvar
Often her speech went, in and out, like noise breaches on an analog dial.
But then, when a metal tray held the top of her head, when the neurologist hokey pokied her directionality and photographed the fissures of her world, the desert bloom of her longevity spawned a riotous pattern of color.
New life began.
Originally published in Pen Pricks, an online literary magazine of micro-fiction. 2008 (now defunct).