My Little Girl
My little girl has all the potential. All of it. I see it so clearly, the way the razor-straight strands of her auburn hair hang on the wind as she runs with resolve, chasing her younger brother, Lucas, beneath the slides. The shine in her green eyes as she narrows in on a potential trap, pinning him to a corner of the sandbox butted up against a pair of cinder block walls, leaving the boy zero chance of escape. Even when she grabs ahold of him and tickles him until he’s reduced to tearful pleas, there’s a dark edge to her laugh.
“Honey, we need to go,” I say.
I wish it weren’t true. The sky here is so beautiful. So blue and pure with occasional cotton-like strands of clouds floating listlessly by. As I sit on an uncomfortable wooden park bench, an old elm reaches over me
