Ghost Radio
THE DAY WAS HEAVENLY bright, the kind of sunshine that makes the leaves glow a neon shade of green. Lana looked up into the treetops, revelling in the songs of the forest: birds chirping, chipmunks racing through the pine needles, their little nails scratching against bark as they sped up the sides of trees.
“There’s no better place to be on a day like today,” she said to her cousin, who was lying beside her on a patch of moss.
Emily removed only one of her ear buds to ask, “You say something?”
Lana tugged out the other one before repeating herself. “I said there’s no better place to be on a day like this.”
“A day like what?” Emily asked.
Pointing to the sun, the trees, the sky, she said, “Like this! Like this! Sunny. Gorgeous. Peaceful. It’s perfect out here.”
Emi
