The Day My Sister Was Born

This day.
Brown dress,
Brown hair,
Sitting on a wooden stool,
Too high.
Dad sorting mail from
A leather bag.
He smiles.
I smile.
Eating dry Cheerios
from his coffee mug.

Written for Margo Roby’s Prompt: The Inner Child

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  1. I love this. I like the simplicity of the description and then the Ah! moment [yes, I said it aloud when I reached the last two lines]. Amazing, isn’t it, that so few words can evoke the feeling of a scene.


    • And I remember it like it was just a brief while ago. I think I can even remember how all those unsorted letters smelled, sort of dusty with a hint of cardboard.

  2. It’s wonderful that your memory gives you the small things, with no mention of what must have been a momentous event in your life.

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