“I don’t want to go!”
“Me either!” chimed in the younger one.
The line inched forward. “We’re going.”
They found seats just as the trailers ceased, a bucket of popcorn in tow.
She held the 3-D glasses like soiled underwear. “I’m not wearing these.” Continue reading Lapidary
“What are you doing, Abby?”
“Painting my fingernails. What does it look like?”
Her big sister frowned. “That’s not right.”
“What?” Continue reading Paint
The cellar was dark and cold. In the summer. Whenever mother asked my sister to go to the cellar to get something, she’d come looking for me. It might have taken her five minutes to fetch a Mason jar of pickles, but she’d rather spend twenty hunting around the house, the yard, the barn for me. The cellar was my birthright. My special place in our family. Continue reading Flurries