September 22, 2008 -Fly Away-

Seeing as my life was void of excitement this day in history, I will provide you with the highlights (there are a few points of interest) and then some literary entertainment. Yes, I did write the following story and I swear to GOD if anyone copies it...

Highlights:
The beau is buying a laptop tomorrow, which means I will finally have a computer with word so that I can type!
I received my first rejection letter for a short story, which, oddly enough, I'm really excited about. My logic, I'm officially in the game now.

The Literary Entertainment:

Fly Away

"Do you think they understand things? I mean, the way we do?"

"What things?"

She was talking about the Seagulls, soaring and squabbling overhead. Their cries melded in a melodic cacophony with the crashing waves. We stood on the bleak, jagged rocks above the shoreline, savoring the salty quality of the air, relishing in the soft spray of the breaking waves, my baby sister and I. Her miniature finger was still pointed skywards in question. Slowly, she lowered it to answer me.

"You know, life things. Do they wonder why they're here? Do they know they're going to die?"

I choked, fighting back sudden tears. She was only seven. Anticipating my answer she turned her bright, sky-blue eyes toward me in question, as though I would know, as though I were the authority. She was older than me, really, in a way years could never measure.

"Hun, I... I just don't know."

"I don't think they do."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because they're not afraid."

I winced, but I nodded. She made me think more than anyone ever had. I reached down and stroked her head, to convince myself she was still here. After her hair had started falling out, she had talked our mother into just shaving it all off. The smooth skin was icy to the touch.

"Are you cold hun?"

"A little."

"Do you wanna' go home?"

After a few moments of silence, she nodded. I scooped her up into my arms, she wouldn't make it home on foot. I hated how thin she was but I could cradle her perfectly. Snuggling against me, her breathing grew deeper and more rhythmic as I took the path home. I was certain she was sleeping, but just as I was approaching the front porch, she turned her face towards mine, eyes still closed, and whispered weakly to me something I would remember my entire life.

"I wish I was a bird."

I wrote this a long time ago. Could maybe use some editing.