Some people believe in miracles. Other people argue that fate is what makes dayturn into night and the waves rise high and low crashing over a ship at sea or carrying itto the shore safely. A person of faith will say that ones’ life is controlled by a higherpower greater than fate itself. Shannon has heard every excuse, rhyme or reason as towhat exactly wills each life changing event. She occasionally agrees, yet never disagreesfor reasons that would just be impolite. It is what only she knows in her heart, and in aplace that even her heart cannot reach, that wills her to live through each day and keepsher anticipating the comfort of her empty bed at night. It is here, in the glow from a singlelit candle holding the scent of the ocean breeze, that Shannon separates herself from theworld around her and is brought into the only place she longs to be.To begin the evening ritual, Shannon sits at her vanity, combing each section of herlong blonde locks and staring into her reflection. She reminds herself of how her eyesused to sparkle. She attempts to recreate the shimmer in her hazel eyes by recalling ahumorous event, or practicing her most infectious grin. Suprised that this doesn’t work(although it has never worked before) she eagerly reaches under her mattress for thephotograph that will begin the second step of what will soon ease her into a soundslumber.Shannon immediately finds the grin that she has been searching for. First, on theglossy print that she holds in her hand, and soon after, appearing on her own rose coloredlips. One would think that night after night of seeing the same picture would make it turninto only that, a picture. Every time Shannon gazes into this square paper world of hersshe is drawn into it as if it were happening all over again.(2)She falls into the time the picture was taken. It was a beautiful summer day, andthe sky was painted blue with traces of clouds only to remind the town t...
