His skin had a slight hue to it. Like someonehad spray-painted bubblegum pink over it. Flexing around he noticed thatevery part of him was evenly disc...lored. More so, he felt the slighttugging on his back again. He twisted and turned till he saw somethingswish behind him. A few tries later he caught a piece of it.Wings! Of course, he had some. Apparently, every pixie had wings. Whywas he even surprised to find them? He tucked on his caught wing toexamine it closer. Best he could describe it was. But I, who had once been celebrated for decisiveness and initiative, had no desire, no intention, no will to make a change. I did not even know what change I wanted. Which was real: the person I had seemed to be all my life, who excelled at school and work, or the person I was with Brad? The only indicator was that I remained passive. One evening though, half hysterically, I did confront Brad. We were in his suite at the Meridian in Boston. I was half dressed. He was bending over his laptop.. More

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