4 318 kilometres.

she lies on her bed.
she closes her tired eyes.
she’s not going to sleep tonight.
she’s going to dream.

of the grass in her front yard,
of times when she could tie a blanket around her neck and run around pretending she was Darkwing Duck or Captain Planet

or better yet, Batgirl.

the days where her biggest worry was if she would get to see her favourite kitten at the barn or if her dad would let her take her dog for a walk down by the river.

when bike riding was a past time, and sitting under trees in the cemetery was a valuable use of ones day.

times when her Granny would yell for her to come to dinner, and she would ask if she could have 5 more minutes to watch the Bugs Bunny and Tweety Show.

nights that were spent in her Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle tent, in the matching sleeping bag beside the bonfire her father built, with marshmallows covering her face and a smile from ear to ear.

where the stars aligned above her head, and cities were smaller so the northern lights could be seen just over the old international tractor.

she could count the shooting stars on her fingers and toes, her mother would point out the satellites crossing paths and her favourite cat would jump off the shed and join them, with a purr louder than any car engine.

the ringlets in her hair would hang perfectly over her porcelain face dotted with freckles on her nose, just to remind the world that she had auburn hair.

her smile was free. pure. but never innocent. she hadn’t a care in the world, other than what cartoons she would miss in the morning because she had to go strawberry picking with her mom and her favourite aunt.

she read Le Petit Prince before bed to make her father proud. she loved her French heritage, but she loved having a secret language with her dad the most.

her imagination was vast and undeniable. not even a bit tattered by the real world. she could see things in people no one else could, and she loved everyone like they were family.

she kissed her dog every night before bed, just like her mother, her father and her grandmother.

she never went to church, but understood basic faith, and without anyone telling her and without anyone knowing, she would say a little prayer every night. just to make sure that in the morning, everyone she kissed goodnight would be there to wish her a good morning.


twenty-one years later...

she still says that little prayer.
because the only thing that gets her through the night is knowing that everyone she kissed goodnight would be there to wish her good morning.