Challenge
There's two things I rarely see on Prose. Happiness and, well, prose. Right me a happy prose. It doesn't even have to start happy. Happy endings, funny experiences, angst with good rewards... that's all happiness, too!
My Sister’s Keeper
I watch her flitter into the room. New day's light pours through the window, painting everything marigold. Specks of fairy dust dance amidst the luminescent rays, injecting color everywhere. But even in darkness, she could invigorate life.
She bites her lip. She needs something. A book, a ball, or a boot misplaced? A scarf. The one from gran, three winters ago.
I point, hoping she sees me. But she never does.
I’m trapped, cursed by my reluctance to let go.
“Thank you!” my baby sister chirps, grabbing her scarf and skipping off.
Did she really see me? My heart flutters.
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