She found herself once again standing in waist-high mucky water, pushing around a red plastic tugboat. The clouds washed by above her, as if the whole world were made of fluid, and her choice not to grow up made as much sense as anything else.
You can’t stay in there forever, her sister called from the banks of the pond. Her sister, who had chosen to go to college, to get married, to have children, to constantly furrow her brow. You’re not a mermaid.
But I am the captain of this ship, she muttered.