EXCERPT FROM A STORY I AM CURRENTLY WRITING
REMEMBERING A LITTLE WARRIOR
AS IF IN A DREAM: I AM TRANSLUCENT;
I see a little girl; nearly 5 years old.
The sun is low and left in the sky, at first it’s unclear if it is going up or coming down, there is just enough of it shining through her hair where I am standing, I can see it is bright strawberry blonde.
I openly watch her.
The girl is alone and seems to be talking to herself.
Sitting in a huge patch of white clover flowers. Searching intently for the four-leaf ones that she and her brother were picking earlier that day.
That’s when it struck me how odd it is that I know about the book laying beside her. It’s where they keep the perfect ones they find; I know that she is so determined now because she is convinced she will have better luck if her brother isn’t there finding all the good ones first!
This girl hopes she can best him; before her sister calls her in for the night.