I love the gray time between night and day, when the sun doesn’t burn me. I get away from the bold neon of night lights in the city and luxuriate in the colors of marble and of doves. I love this fallow field with the wildflowers and the clover. I open my arms wide to embrace the world where no one is around to accidentally hit, or to offend—or to hunt. I’m being gentle right now, and I don’t want to be triggered by another person. I balance an umbrella on the tips of my fingers to feel the slight breeze catch it.

Master Darius Poppins says I’ll be able to fly in another twenty years. Then, I will use an umbrella as a focus, like his family has done for generations, and lift off. I’m lucky to have been turned under his command. He has a real sense of whimsy.