pre-plan

Anisa

“Is she okay?” said Samantha.

“Yes,” I said. Yes. I pulled myself up, floating with feet just touching floor.

“I’ll feel shame for Lionel’s house la—”

I hugged her.

I held her for a long time.

I released.

“Now,” I said. I swallowed. I blinked. “Now.”

There was a long pause. No, I paused.

As if each word were a plank on a flimsy, temporary bridge, which could only handle so much pressure, as if I would stop floating and fall: “You… are… Samantha.” I stopped from calling her impulsive. “I… am Anisa.” I could self-evaluate my words later. “Regardless, of what Brune needs… I am human. We, are. I am impulsive. I… I care. I care, Samantha. I care.” Long pause. “I see… I see value you bring to the world, Samantha. Your experiments, your charisma, your… smile. I… I want to see it continue.”

Pause. I took a deep breath out.

“So. Let’s try to start from there.”