The Red Bandanna

"Don't you like him?" A young girl's shrill voice breaks through the white noise of our character's mind. With a quick snap of her eyes as her neck stays completely still, she looks at the blonde haired blue eyed girl with sharp jaw lines and long fluttery eye lashes that lead your eyes to her soft bouncy curls that fall in front of her shoulder as she walks, her hips swaying with her movement. Her arms wrap around her chest to hold the denim jacket tightly against her pink blouse peeking out from her collar. Denim skinny jeans reach down her long legs to the suede tan heeled boots on her feet. It's a wonder how how she keeps such a pace without tripping over them to fall to the cement pavement below.
Our character lets out a soft laugh between her red stained lips as her eyes fall back to the path and her chin falls just an inch closer to her collar bone. The bangs of her pixie short black hair falling just into her vision. A breeze catches her black leather jacket opening the front to reveal her closely fitted red scoop neck tank top as well as her tanned skin. Her dark jeans are tucked neatly in her laced combat boots.
"Well? Do you?" Gale, the blonde girl asks again, more agitated.
"He's a nice guy." Sara replies softly as she shrugs her shoulders.
"A nice guy? You two talk all the time-" Gale is cut off by the sound of a tweeting bird, as Sara flinches and puts her hand on her phone in her back pocket.
"Aha! I bet that's him now." Gale says with a smug grin on her pretty pink lips.
Sara half smiles in the direction of her overly enthusiastic friend whom she has known for no less than ten years, as she pulls her phone gently from her pocket like she would a robin fallen from it's nest. For a moment her heart skips a beat as she slides her phone open to see who the message is from. As her heart sinks she stretches the smile out for a moment longer so as not to alarm her friend.
"It's him, isn't it?" Gale asks gleefully.
Sara looks up from her ominous message from an unknown number to look back to her friend, giving her a sly wink of the eye. "I've gotta go." She says leaning in to grasp Gale around the waist. This always made Gale nervous because Sara always seemed to embrace her goodbye like it might be the last time, though she had learned to push it aside as it had never been the last time, therefore seemed irrational to consider.
Releasing, Gale from her grasp, Sara bolts across the street without looking to see if there were cars coming, dodging a cyclist as he yells at her but she is long gone into the alley already.
Sara ducks into the darkness of the alley, looking back for a moment to see, Gale walking the rest of the way home, alone. Pushing her life out of her mind, she enters her alternate reality. That which no one could know. Her dark secret kept hidden from all those she cared about, and those hidden from this life she is now entering. It's been a long time now. Amazing what you can accomplish within the darkness in five years. Ducking and dodging people and dogs and even passing planes, Sara shuffles her way across town, knowing you can never to be to careful making sure no one follows you. The sun is getting low in the sky, leaving less time to get to her destination. Those she is meeting will not appreciate her tardiness. And that could be the death of her, if she is not strong enough to prove herself to them.
The town becomes less welcoming as she goes deeper into the east side. Graffiti coats the walls around her. Beer cans lay empty and crushed on the sides, some with bullet holes. A bloody hand print stretches across one of the walls, followed by a stain of what once was a pool of blood stretched across the ground. Sara was there the night the body remained. It had made getting to her destination more treacherous to not be caught by cops. They were searching for the killer, and witnesses, but Sara had no time for such things.
She comes to a stop in front of a long since abandoned hotel. The windows were broken, graffit
i covered the walls, caution tape was blowing in the breeze in front of her. Sara reached for the paneling against the cement of the building, lifting it up to reveal a hole that had been smashed in to get inside the building.
Reaching one foot through the opening, ducking her head, she pulls herself inside. It is dark inside, lit only by dim lanterns hanging on the walls. More discreet this way. She is able to make out the hallway she knew so well, leading left or right. Turning to check the passage and be sure the panel is securely tucked back so as no passerby's would think to look inside, she can see no light coming through the cracks. Now assured all is taken care of, she reaches into her leather jacket pocket, pulling out a red bandanna. She flicks her wrist to hear the snap of the fabric, before grasping both ends to reach around her neck and tie it securely. Once this is done, she takes one deep breath, straightens her shoulders and walks down the right side of the hallway. Her footsteps echo through the empty halls. No windows, only lanterns light the way in front of her feet. One sharp left turn, leads to several doorways on either side of the hall way. Third opening on the left. This leads to a larger open room, with more doorways. Walking a short ways in, there is a large opening on the right. Sara walks in, this room is more lit than the hallways. Between fifteen and twenty men turn to her in expectancy. Her eyes now stone cold, sweep the room. Taking note of the tattooed, muscle built men of all races. Their steely gazes staring back at her, some of them averting their eyes as she reaches them.
The silence grows heavier as her eyes stop and her tongue brushes the corner of her still red stained lips and she shakes her head sternly but slowly. "Someone want to tell me what the bloody 'ell 'appened last night?"
This was her dark secret, that which no one could know. She was the leader of a gang, one of the top three most feared gangs in the streets of St. Louis. To keep this title she could not slip up even for a moment, not show one bead of sweat, never let weakness penetrate her facial expression. Just one wrong move would destroy her. She had fought her way to this rank for many years and gone too far to ever get out now. Her only way out was death. And it would be gladly granted by many who reside here, even her own men, who would die for her, or kill her if they had the chance.

Only Temporary

You pull yourself through the cold water tugging at your calves with it's ice like finger tips. The sharp rocks cutting at your bare feet with every step. The man walking alongside you suddenly begins growing closer to your side. You edge away slowly as the rushing current is trying to pull your feet out from under you. He closes the gap between you and him before you reach the bank. His arms reach out and you feel him closing in around you. Panic floods your mind, in defense you bring your right arm up against his chest as you try to take a quick step away in hopes of evading his grasp, to no avail. With one swift motion like that of the river under your feet he scoops your body out from under you into his arms. The body of water parts between your feet and that which remained clinging to your soaked blue jeans falls with a loud splash back into the river below you. "Just for a bit." His deep voice says calming your nerves before you try to struggle. The term gives you a sense of safety. This will not last forever. As if you are not really trapped, it's just for a bit. This will only last for a short time...

Love Is...

Mal, The Cupid Betta

You could say that love is instant, love is known the moment you lay eyes on that person or object or emotion. And you would be right. Love is instant. Love is also slow. Love takes time. Love doesn't always show itself right away, sometimes love hides in the shadows and you wouldn't realize it was ever there... until one day it peeks out from around the corner and you catch a glimpse of it. It might give you a scare at first. You might jump back with your heart beating in your chest, trying to tell you this was a surprise and it could be dangerous and you should run away and and... whoa, you really do love them. This was unexpected. In all the time that you've known them, you never thought it would come to this... Here it is like a slap in the face. Saying "Come on! What are you waiting for? The potential has been here all along! Why did it take you so long to figure this out?"
Well, you see, there's this thing called incompatibility... "What's that?" It can be chemistry, religion, life goals, relationships, age... Sometimes you can fall in love with someone that you can never be with.
Now how did you manage to get yourself in this mess? Especially those of us who are very good at keeping up walls against these forbidden situations. It's better for all of us if those walls stay up exactly where they are. No, you will not cross that line.. that is a wall. And it will not be crossed. I am not arguing over this. The wall stays. Wait.. where did that hole come from? Why is the secret door open?? Curse human biology. Curse it all. Now you're here, on my side of the wall. And the secret door is once again shut tight, but you are on the wrong side of it. What do we do with this?
While this emotional battle is happening in your own mind, on the outside you find yourself excessively giggling at stupid jokes and daydreaming as you stare off in the distance and listening to sickeningly happy love songs. Now you're just embarrassing yourself with the country love playlist. And now your ex/coworker saw you swaying your hips in the back room you were working in that morning. You've done it now. You've gotten yourself into this mess and now you can't get yourself out. In your own defense perhaps the other side didn't do anything to prevent this occurrence. But now you both find yourselves staring at each other in complete awe struck confusion and bewilderment.
On the inside... You are just a figment. Just like these walls and that secret passageway are figments of my imagination. I can think you right out of my mind and you'll only be a real person with no power over my emotions, and then these walls will go back to the way they were and we can all be happy. And for a moment you think that works, your walls are in tact, there is no loving feelings, all is good and safe and exactly how it is supposed to be. But it's not that way at all when you drift off into your fantasies and see them as this knight who's going to sweep you off your feet and keep you safe from all that is evil in the outside world.
It doesn't just go away. You can't force it to disappear. It would makes things so much simpler if that were the case. None of this growing pent up frustration. No more heartache.
And this is why we have walls. People around you may give you a hard time and tell you that you would be so much better off if you would just let your walls down... But they have no right to say that when they don't know what lies behind them. All the emotions that we are hiding behind them.
Love is painful. Love hurts. Love can destroy you from the inside out. Do not let it control you. Do not let it take away the things that you care about. Find the kind of love that embraces you and everything you stand by, walls and all. Without obstacles, without secrets, without frustration.
Find love that is there to nurture you. And act in kind.

The Crumbling Earth

It is the year three thousand. Much of technology has changed, while the people have stayed the same. The human race has been through plagues, wars, cities have been wiped out, countries have nearly starved to death, and yet, somehow the race survives. By some miracle they are still here. They have a will to keep going in the absolute worst conditions, keep warm in bitter cold, keep hydrated in dangerous levels of heat, fight off predators, build technologies beyond their ancestor's imagination. All to survive the elements. To keep their existence known in this world rather than be forgotten by the life that inhabits this earth with us. But the earth was not so resilient.

You awake in small dark cot. The rocking of the bed you lie on leads you to believe you are aboard a ship on the sea. Staggering as you lift yourself up, you see a door through blurry vision. Every step feels like dragging a stone around your ankle as you reach for the handle. The door swings open and you are greeted by bright sunlight and shouts of men and women dressed in dark brown and black clothing as they rush past your vision. Shock grips your heart. You have no memory of who you are or how you came to be here. Should you turn back and barricade yourself in this room until you feel land hit the walls? Where will you end up? Or do you fight your way to the side of this ship and commit a suicidal mission to escape into most likely shark infested waters that could be miles from civilization? Or perhaps start a mutiny and take control of this ship? Gripping your fists tightly to settle the shaking in your hands you march out of the room to find the captain of this ship and demand to know what you are doing here.
You are nearly knocked to the ground by other bodies bumping and pushing and rushing past you. You push forward to the opening across the hall from the door you came from, towards the bright light.
The trail of light brings you to a glass room, where stands a grey haired man in red. You approach him but before you can start a debate on the injustice of this possible kidnapping the view in your peripheral vision catches your eye. There is no land. No water. No.. nothing. Only the sight of distant stars and chunks of rock floating past the ship you stand within. You watch in horror just as another chunk of rock slowly passes you, and you see a swing set still embedded in the earth. Earth... These chunks were once earth. Now nothing more than floating space dibree.
Instinctively you run out of the room away from the captain, looking left to right, you see a flight of stairs. The stones that were once dragging along on your ankles have now vanished as you run barefoot up the stairs. Reaching the opening of the top, you crawl out on to black pavement. For a moment you believe that what you saw was just a projection, for this ship looks a lot like earth. But the idea is crushed when you see the distant galaxies in the distance reaching from underneath the edge of this small piece of earth. You now realize you are floating on a mechanical piece of what once was earth. This was a small town once, now a ship in space, holding it's inhabitants safely from the outside conditions. Looking in the direction this ship is flying, you are nearly blinded by the light of the sun.

Coming back to reality you realize you were once again living in memories of almost a month ago. The sound of your captain's voice droning on and on until the words become twisted and garbled in your mind and lose all voice at all. "Purple dragon six seven gardens... Will go with Joshua." He says looking directly at you. You make direct eye contact in surprise, but before you can ask further you are interrupted. "You two will go immediately to retrieve Brian from EX61009, and bring him back here to The Überlebende."
You look around for clues as to what was just discussed, to no avail. A tall stocky figured man with dark hair, green eyes and a bearded face walks up to you. "Are you coming?" He asks growing impatient.
"Uh, yeah." You respond and follow him as he stalks away, shaking the ground as he lets each step collide with the concrete below.

You take a small shuttle through space to a chunk of earth that has remained relatively in tact this past month it's been floating loose. On this chunk of earth there is 2 acres of land and a white house. Leaving the shuttle outside, you walk to the porch. Looking up you notice the contraption that was once a doorbell. Wires reach up, through a small window that leads into the house, those wires pull a metal bar up, and when released it falls to hit two metal bird cutouts, making a loud hollow sound echo through the house.
The door is unlocked. Joshua steps inside first, it is a small room, with one door out and another leading further in. It does not take long to find Brian, the curly ginger haired boy. This was his mother's home before she passed. He explains that he had to come back, one last time before it drifted too far in space to ever be found again. He had taken one the of the ship's shuttles to get here.
While Joshua speaks urgently to him, explaining that we have to leave this place, an old record player catches your eye. Or so it appears to be a record player. You step closer and realize it is technology beyond that of such time period. You press a red button, a holographic recording opens in front of you. A family playing outdoors. Screams of laughter fill your ears. This was taken before the earth crumbled.
The image cuts out, but there is still a woman standing next to it. At first you believe it is still playing, you look to Joshua and Brian, who do not seem to notice the figure's image in front of you. As if it is not really there, only you can see it. "Are you seeing this?" You ask. Joshua looks at you questioningly, "See what?"
Brian's blue eyes grow wide, but he does not look in the direction of the figure. The woman smiles. "There is a woman standing right there!" You tell them pointing in front of yourself at the figure.
Looking back to the two men standing there, Joshua continues to stare perplexed. Brian, however, you see his eyes focus on the figure, and sadness come across his face.
"That's my mother.." He says.
You realize she is a spirit, still attached to this record player, never able to move on. Just as this realization is clear, another figure, a woman with white hair and a red dress, appears feet away from the first, with a sickening grin on her face. The house begins to shake with anger. This second spirit was not as friendly.
Joshua turns to swing open the door outside to reach our shuttle, but the door was locked and could not be broken through. Instead you follow Brian as he opens the only other door to the stairs leading up to the unknown. The door closes behind you as you rush up the carpeted stairs. You believe that Joshua is right behind you, but when you look over your shoulder he is not there. You try to open the door you just came through, but it is locked like the last.
You think for a moment. Your eyes darting back and forth rapidly, you have very little time and you can hear Brian speaking with the first spirit. Something about almonds.. What could that mean?
Without wasting another moment on technicalities of whether your newly thought out plan will work, you run up the rest of the flight of stairs, to another room to find a window. By some miracle the old window opens and leads to the roof. Carefully you slip through the opening on to the slanted roof as the wind blows a cold chill through your clothing.
You find the courage to jump off the roof and roll on to the grass below. Bringing you back to the front door. When you turn the knob the door opens, as it swings wider you see Joshua holding his blaster, pointing at... you. The last thing you remember is a loud bang.

All is quiet until the ringing in your ear becomes louder and louder until you are unable to sleep peacefully anymore and a splitting headache grows stronger as you come to. You groan as you adjust your shoulders against the hard surface you find yourself laying on. A warm hand rests on your right shoulder. Your eyes flutter open to see Joshua standing over you, the interior of the shuttle around you. "You'll live." he says with a grunt. He releases your shoulder and stands up to walk back to the control panel of the flying shuttle.
"Wait!" You exclaim sitting up on the cold floor as your muscles ache in protest, you are barely able to get the word out through the hoarseness of your own voice, you don't recognize yourself speaking. Clearing your dry aching throat, you ask, "What happened?"
Without looking back Joshua replies, "You got in the way. Lucky for you my blaster was only meant to cause enough force to make the image dissipate, not enough to disintegrate a human body. Next time, try knocking."

You return back to The Überlebende. Your limbs beginning to loosen from the blast you received hours before.
The shuttle comes to a steady stop safely within the floating island that is your home, tugging along the the shuttle that Brian took to reach the house. Joshua emerges first from the shuttle, then Brian, and you follow close behind. "Go see the medic." Joshua states bluntly, making eye contact with you to be sure you understand it is an order. "Make sure there was no internal damage." You give a silent nod in reply as he walks away.
On your way to the medical office, a man and woman dressed in leather armory come stumbling your direction, having just come back from their own shuttle. As they get closer you see the blood staining their chests before they collapse to the floor. You rush to help them and call for the medic. The woman with long dark hair is gone but the man, coughing blood, speaks to you with a straining voice. "They are coming, the plague, it's here.." He trails off with one last breath leaving you bewildered.
The captain strides to you with his long jacket trailing behind him as he moves. "What happened?" He asks urgently. You cannot answer for you do not know what could have happened. Who is coming? What plague?
You open your mouth to speak when the woman and man take a deep breath and their eyes open wide, causing you to jump back in surprise as you watch their wounds through the tears in their armor heal completely. This is beyond any technology you have seen, no medic could ever bring back the dead.
The captain, looking just as surprised is speechless. A new threat arises, for the unknown here is a dangerous thing.

Certainty of What We Do Not See

  In a small patch of woods, a little grove not a quarter mile from the highway, sits a bench. The wood has become weathered along the edges from the seasons, taking on a dark grey hue where there was once almost naturally white wood.
  Drawing closer, as the saplings and wildflowers tug at your sides, you see the last hour of sun begin to come out from behind the clouds and bring into light the the wood of this bench for what it once was. The middle of the seat begins to glow with an angelic like presence from the sunset, making you feel safe, while growing more curious of this place.
  Your hand can almost reach out and touch it, the strokes of grain smooth under your fingertips. This was once important to someone special. You can't say why, you simply know, by the spiritual presence coursing through the confines of the trees.
  While contemplating the presence around you, something catches your eye you didn't think was there a moment ago. A pile of stones stands neatly stacked feet away from the bench. You turn to get closer, when you feel your footing pulled out from under you. You catch yourself on your hands and knees before your face can hit the earth. And there it is. Brushing away the leaves you make out a name in the aged stone plaque, and words of wisdom to guide you on the rest of your journey. "Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."

Dark Summer Nights

It was a cool late summer evening on the streets of Bland Missouri. The moon shining as bright as the street lights that lit the quiet lonely road. This narrow road seemed a mile wide tonight, standing in the middle of it between the many antique shops that dapple the sides. They lie empty and lifeless, while filled with mannequins dressed in 1950's dresses and tin buckets sat outside the doors, hoping to draw in customers who can still remember the smell of fresh warm milk that once filled their brim.
The orange lights shown a glow over the black pavement and still water from the early morning rain. The dark shadows of the trees stretched over the road, reaching out for an unsuspecting wanderer to step too close, so he could then be engulfed by the blackness.
 

Dear Kit

People hurt, they caress your body with a knife of the purest silver and when they depart they leave you with that knife still throbbing in your chest, and words of love and promises still ringing in your ear. You think you will never again fall into false hope. When will you give up on this hopeless idea? What will become of you when your heart is broken for the last time?

Dear kit, sad naive dreamer. You must one day realize that people are only here with you for the pelt you can offer. They will fill your head with ideas that seem grande and beautiful. They will offer you warmth and safety from the cold world outside. Only so that they may nurture your body and soul before they skin you for all the beauty that you are. You will be left broken and alone with nothing left, not even the fur on your back to keep you warm.

You will say to yourself with the heavens as your witness, "Never again will I fall into the hunter's trap and be skinned alive and left for dead!" Yet again and again you let yourself believe you have found someone who will nurture you for all that you are, all that you may offer, without desire to tear it away from your flesh.

You believe you can love and be loved in return. But each time you find that you have less to offer. Each time your pelt is ripped away it comes back with less vibrancy, it returns with mats and fleas. You begin to hide away in the bushes, so that no one may see the scars of where you have been cut.

Do not give yourself anymore to those who only mean you harm. Go back to your home, away from hunters and traps and learn from these experiences. Grow hard and steady and build yourself from what they have left you as. Become strong and clever, so that you may never again be caught in their steel traps.

Let them become entrapped by your beauty and fierceness. That which they can only see from the outskirts of the forest, as you disappear like a shadow of a spirit. Live in the safe confounds of your woods, where there is much to be discovered. There are miles to be traveled. Protect yourself from the evil in this world, when it is a battle you cannot fight alone. You have not yet found your ally in this war.

And remember what your scars are there to remind you of, not to hold you hostage to memory, to guide you on a further path.

Dear Younger Me

This is written with the idea that we could some how, some day, reach back to who we once were and give words of advice that may make the years we know now were hard, easier.
It gets worse before it gets easier.
This is a harsh saying but it is so true in ways we may not understand yet. Dear younger me, our heart gets broken more than once in our teens. The cute rat tail boy chooses someone else after three romantic teenage months. His sister does just as much damage. The first kiss is awkward, but there's much to learn from it. We learn that letting go is the best thing we could ever do for the rest of our life.
There is a college student that we find attractive, but it doesn't work out. Due to different aspirations in life. By this time dad is gone. We get through it with a strong heart.
At eighteen we met someone who seemed like the perfect end to a fairy tale, that forever that everyone is looking for. There's so much we don't know about him at first. At this point it feels safe to say he will do the most damage to our teenage years. Next time there is any doubt about someone, we run. If they are ever cruel, ever controlling, ever say something against the things we care most about, they are not safe to have in our life. And be sure to squeeze a ketchup bottle as often as possible. If there is anything I might change at all, I would say break his heart five months earlier. It's not worth keeping contact. Or maybe I'm wrong, perhaps all things have their purpose.
Never try to impress those around you, they are not important.
Don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't wear, even if it's just an opinion.
It's okay to scream, whether there are people around or not.
Drive with the windows down and music loud, even if there are other drivers and it's an embarrassing song.
When the strange woman tells you that you are beautiful, you will want to think she's crazy and just saying what any girl wants to hear, even though she says she hears from god. She might be actually be right. That statement is going to be very important one day, thanks to our last heart break before we hit twenty.
Leave the people who don't prove loyal, or honest, and keep the friends that were always there even in the hard times.
Continue with the things that matter, leave behind the things that do not.
No matter how hard things get, or how it feels like the sun will never rise again, it will. Given time.
When you are driving alone with your thoughts screaming louder than the music, and you start to doubt life and this bigger picture, you think your faith is a lie, that there really isn't a god in this torture called life, take a deep breath and see what he has put in front of you. Sometimes it's a sunset, sometimes it's a person, sometimes it's something terrifying, sometimes it's something wonderful. As his children we rebel, and he takes great measures to remind us he is always there even when we don't see him. And no one is ever going to have the knowledge to persuade you to see otherwise, even when you doubt, if someone argues you will argue that he is true and faithful, because you are faithful to him. To the end. Those people who try to turn you against him will become angry, they are stubborn but they know not how you could ever be so stubborn to believe in a higher power that doesn't exist. What they don't know yet is that he does exist, and that they simply don't have the sight to see him yet. If they grow angry, let them throw their tantrum as you remain calm and always logical. They are angry because they want what you have but they can't understand it right now.
And finally, make more wishes with dandelions.
-Aspiring Photography, Lily

Happy Easter!

Easter is always a special time in my family. We have our basic traditions. Coloring eggs, lots of chocolate, and hunting for eggs after breakfast.
Back when Daniel and I were little, my dad would always hide the eggs we had colored, every year, without fail. He would hide some easy ones, and some not so easy ones. He would follow us around and give us a hint if we were close.
We always found it funny though how quickly he would forget where he hid all the eggs! We almost never found all of them. Why just last summer I found a three or four year old Easter egg stowed away in the shop. It was past the point of rotting already, it was just dust.
My dad always had special places he would hide the eggs too, so we had a few ideas where to look. In the trees, by the trampoline, there was always one in the gutter. Now that he's gone, Daniel and I try to uphold his traditions for the younger kids, with a few of our own twists.

We still colored eggs. The kids made all kinds of pretty colors and stuck stickers all over them when they were dry. We took the special crayons that keep the egg white when you write designs and put it in the dye. Using the crayons we made what we call, Scribble Eggs. We wrote all over the eggs, scribbling over every inch, and then placed them in the die, coming out with interesting abstract patterns. It's also tradition to write the name of your crush on one of your eggs every year. You can imagine who's name I wrote down.

On Easter morning Daniel and I got up early while the kids were at sunrise service to hide all six dozen colored eggs. Daniel took the north half of the house, I took the south half. Daniel hid two eggs on the roof for a laugh. I hid one in the storage mailbox in the garden. I attempted to hide one on the edge of the tree house, but a sickening crack as I was climbing down ended that brilliant plan. Daniel hid one in the cat's litter box in the shop. He also hid two eggs in the chicken coop, where the chickens promptly sat on them.
The kids got home just as we were finishing up with three eggs. Once they had eaten we took them out and waited. There were quite a few easy ones we left in plain sight for Juliet to find, then there were more complicated, clever ones for the older girls. Juliet ran and screamed and giggled over every egg she found in the grass and in the flowers. Georgianna took finding eggs very seriously, as she does with most things. Annaliese saw it as a sport and wanted to find every egg.
Annaliese was not brave enough to stick her hand under either of the chickens to get the colored eggs that Daniel had hid in the nest boxes, but Georgianna had no fear in grabbing it from under them. I was proud.
At the end of the day, I feel sad that I can't share these memories and traditions with my dad now that he's passed, as well as wishing he could see how much we have grown in these few years. The kids have gotten so big and smart, Daniel looks more like him every day, and I know I am not the same girl I was. I like to think he would not be surprised at all. He would say he knew who we would become all along.