Some days I feel like a comet, running through life at the forward edge of my perception. Thinking happens instinctually, never deeply, but that is working out well. It’s not too fast; I can handle this speed, but sometimes I want to turn and see my tail, or pause to feel the wonder at where I find myself, freeze in a perfect moment, but I can’t. It flies past in my opposite direction, sliding through my misty, glowing hands.