f l o r a

United States of America

lady madonna
children at your feet
I wonder how you manage to
make ends meet

Message to Readers

peer reviews are always needed.

mission| a sweet sunshine type of gal, part twenty-one

November 11, 2018

FREE WRITING

1
“Belle, I got into university! My first choice,” Eighteen year old Tony O’Malley knelt in the grass by his sister’s gravestone, resting his hand upon the engraving. “I got the letter last night, I wanted to come and tell you, but Dad and Todd said we should go to dinner. Sorry about that.”
He pushed his curly brown locks out of his blue eyes sheepishly. Christ, he was talking to a gravestone, a gravestone, and yet he was still awkward around..her.
He cleared his throat and pressed on.
“Gracie just started Year 1, and she said the cutest thing when I had to drop her off. Do you want to know what she did?”
Only silence.
“She turned to me and said, ‘I’m going draw a picture of Mummy. She’s an angel in Heaven, Uncle Tony.’” Tony felt himself chuckle a little. “She’s just as pretty as you, Belle.”
Silence.
“Alex is having a difficult time in school, says he hates the teachers, and they’re complete rubbish. His words, not mine.”
Silence.
“Belle,” Tony fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt, feeling the burn of the onslaught of tears that was to come. ‘You know we all miss you so much, and how much we wish you were here, right?”
“Of course I do, Tony,” A hand was rested on the teen’s shoulder.
He almost didn’t want to turn around, but he whispered;
“Sis?” He reached for her hand, feeling her long, slender fingers. The touch he had lost, he had longed for, was finally back after eight years.
He looked up, and was met with twin pools of hazel, ringed with rims of gold.
“Hey, Squirt,” Deep brown waves framed her heart shaped face, her plump pink lips were curled in the shape of a crescent moon; her intoxicating smile.
“Sabelle,” He said dreamily, taking her hand, squeezing it tightly. “ Belle, it’s you,”
“Sweetie, you’re not dreaming,” White feathers filled Tony’s vision.
“Let me guess, you fell from heaven,” Tony smiled, a wanderlust look still glazed over his irises. This couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t be.
“No, I was sent here on a mission to help you,” Belle pulled Tony up to his feet, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. “And judging by the way your clothes look, you really need help, little brother.”

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