Just as expected, Ollie hung on by the skin of his teeth.
Spiritually? Frayed.
Emotionally? Wrecked.
Physically? Unknown. He couldn't feel his legs anymore.
To survive, he did the only thing that made sense.
He started hallucinating.
In his mind, a dream began to take shape. A soft vision. Something comforting. Safe.
A cozy little place. White picket fence. Clear skies. A quaint house with red shutters and a flower bed that never wilted.
There were chickens. Nice ones. Chickens that didn't bite.
And a wonderful cow. Soft. Round. The kind that mooed with love.
From the house, three little balls tumbled out. Balls? Oh whatever. He couldn't tell. They had different fur colors, and they continued to roll across the grass.
Then Kyle appeared, chasing after them in a flour-dusted apron.
Ollie didn't know what was happening, but it looked nice. Cozy. Warm.
So he ran too, desperately wanting to catch up.
