“Who are you?”

The challenge is delivered with the force of a sentry. Fatigues and assult rifles; cheap suits, sunglasses, and earbuds; chain mail and spears. You shall not pass!

I reflexively drop to one knee. “I’m the paramedic. Who are you?”

The snick of well-oiled steel flashes between us as the assault rifles and spears disappear. The mighty protector shrinks into a small girl.

“Are you hurt at all?”


“Mind if I go check out your mom?”

The force is strong in this one. I wish you well, child. I see greatness in your future.

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