Self

Lynn looked high and low for her identity. She remembered having it when she talked to the nice man at the bank. Lynn stayed up late the night before polishing the persona she knew would snag her a loan. The money would set her up with a truck and tools so she could pull other people's weeds. Lynn needed dirt and sky. Desks never did fit. Too much muscle being robbed of a job. Lynn needed motion, but she wasn't going anywhere if her made-to-order Self didn't come out of hiding. Lynn believed money would make all the difference, but the woman she had become didn't like having all her needs filled. The wild had been tamed, the challenge was gone, and dandelions dug in deep to stand their ground. The wind changed course, too, and the bank went looking for the nice lady to whom they had given a loan.