Me? I had wavy white-blond hair, big blue eyes and legs that stretched for miles. Mom was short, barely over five-three, and I wasn't sure Em would even make it to five-one.
She was a miniature version of our mother and the complete opposite of me.īoth possessed a slick fall of dark hair and beautifully up-tilted golden eyes. She wore a glittery pink ballerina costume, her pigtails bouncing with her every movement. A fat white rabbit, racing toward a tree.Įight-year-old Emma danced around me. A butterfly with one of its wings shredded. As I breathed in the thick honeysuckle and lavender perfume of the Alabama summer, I could make out a few shapes. The sun shone brightly as puffy white clouds ghosted across an endless expanse of baby blue.
I lay sprawled on a blanket in my backyard, weaving a daisy chain for my little sister.
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