by Kaleigh Somers
We ran through that cornfield, dodging branches, unable to see more than a few feet in front of us. And I prayed that if I squeezed his hand hard enough, if I never let go, we could break through some time-space continuum. When we stopped, me a few steps behind him, smacking hard into his back, I thought we'd done it. Above us, a rainbow covered the sky for miles in either direction, illuminating it. "Aw man," he said, shaking his head and dropping my hand, bringing me back to reality. Instead of a pot of gold, an endless supply of wishes, another world altogether, we were left only a moment away from where we'd started: two kids being called inside for dinner.
Kaleigh Somers is a student at James Madison University, where she writes for The Breeze. She has been known to get up in the middle of the night to scribble story ideas on her Capital One statement.