Portrait of a Young Girl

Sophia’s long red hair whipped around wildly as the wind rustled through the leaves of the large willow tree that sat on her parents property. She walked to her favorite spot, behind the old barn.

Sitting down on the piece of sandstone that framed the old well, she noticed the piece of cement that coved the hole was crumbling. Several small stones that had been embedded int the cement, were sitting on the sandstone. A rather moderately sized hole was left, from the crumbling rock. Most likely, you could fit your hand in the hole , but for Sophia that purpose was not intended. Picking up a stone she twirled it between her thumb and index fingers. She looked at it for a moment, and released it. Then she waited, hoping that satisfying sound of the rock hitting the water would travel back to her ears -and there it was- Kerr.. plunk..

She continued to twirl more rocks, releasing them from between her fingers, pretending they were her dreams. Slowly slipping away from her, but just within her grasp. So close, that perhaps she could reach out and grab them. However, that was not to be

 

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