Those she trampled on the first day were trampled on every other day until they died. Jill felt bad for the poor little things she sacrificed, but it was the best way. Jill liked staring at the field at night. Much better than the stars, because the flowers were illuminated with color. Blues and purples and reds. She watched them waltz with the sky and for a few moments she could forget what had brought her here to Ticketyboo. Jeff tugged on her dress with stubby fingers and shattered her mellow thoughts into coarse shards. “Jill, I wanna pick flowers for Mommy.” “Mommy…” Jill trembled. She inhaled deeply and allowed the fragrance in the air to tickle her nostrils. This calmed her nerves. “Mommy’s gone.” Blood. Glass. Fire. “You remember what happened…don’t you?” “No, not that one. New mommy.” “She’s not our Mommy!” Jill erupted. The entire meadow seemed to dance wildly from the force of her outburst.
