“I’ve never cared much for the Parasaurolophus,â€? Linda said as she walked down the bike corridor with her shaggy puppy, Antithesis. Antithesis kept prancing, nose to the ground. He was sick of Linda’s nonsense talk. Inane enough that he wanted to both ignore it and keep listening.
Linda did not love Antithesis, but she needed him. Feeling his tongue on her cheek or fur on her palm was Earth’s way of saying, “You are part of something, Linda. Something that makes sense.â€?
Little really made that much sense to Linda, but if she thought about that too much, she was sure she would shrivel.
So, instead, she lived a place where both fantastical creatures and creatures from the late cretaceous period lay on the grass while yellow Hibiscus flowers floated above their heads. Antithesis did not exist there, but the wetness of his tongue and softness of his fur were what separated Linda’s two worlds.
“Not the most attractive dino,” she continued, “plus baby centaur is terrified of him.â€?