The Girl in the Grass
I don’t know what she was doing; she just seemed to be slowly dancing, her hands moving in circles, her lips moving only just; a song, a little hummed melody pushed by the breeze over to me. She hadn’t seen me. The sunlight framed her, it caressed her arms and face with blushing colour and held her up for me, ready for me to take.
By Leigh Linley.
Beep Beep
On road trips, as kids, my brother and I would sit patiently in the car, coloring books closed, and zip lock baggies of animal crackers shut. Once the car turned onto the highway and merged into traffic, we went wild trying to fight boredom. Three years old, not even knowing what the highway was, I waited for my brother’s cue that we were there and it was good. Now on the highway, I breathed a sigh of relief. This is the no Uie zone, the point of no return. The heat kicked in and made my frigid nose prickle. The bipolar radio calmed down on a power ballad. The snow, though still raging, appeared serine. Except for a dark figure up ahead, the road stretched empty.
By Amanda Pampuro.