It was that time again. Time to set down the works of Camus and muster the gaiety demanded of a glittering socialite. Lucy Sparrow could hardly bear it. The thought of attending Bunny Mittens' party was enough to make her want to cash in her trust fund and go off the grid.
Bunny Mittens was, by all accounts, insufferable. She was a line cutter, a pencil borrower, and a copycat. Why, only yesterday Lucy had caught Bunny staring at her spelling test. The little sneak raised her hand first to say how Constantinople was spelled, when everyone knew Bunny Mittens could not have spelled a word like Constantinople if her life depended on it.
Everyone, that is, but the teacher, who awarded Bunny Mittens a gold star!
The disappointment, the sense of injustice, was unbearable. Lucy went home and carved an exact likeness of Bunny out of a block of cheese and set it in her hamster cage.
"Lucy, are you coming? It's almost time to go."
Mrs. Sparrow's voice was as cultured as the strand of pearls around her neck, belying the fact she grew up on a small farm in the middle of nowhere and spent half her life hidden in trees.
"I don't see the point of it. I don't see the point of anything," said Lucy through clenched teeth.
"There now, darling, I think that's enough existentialism for you today," said Mrs. Sparrow, her eyes shining with a look that made her seem both present and far away all at once.
"Bunny Mittens is a dirty cheat!" cried Lucy, stamping her foot.
"No one can take from you what is truly yours, my dear girl," said her mother. She bent down and gave Lucy a kiss, and where her lips touched Lucy's cheek, a tiny golden star shimmered for the rest of the afternoon.
Dear reader, would you like a chance to win little Miss Lucy Sparrow? By leaving a comment at the bottom of this post, your name will be entered in the drawing. If you mention the giveaway to a friend or promote it using any means of social media, please feel free to enter your name again with each mention.
I hope you have a beautiful weekend. I am convalescing, I suppose, whatever that means. Can a run be considered part of convalescing? How about a walk? Would anyone like to come read me a story? I must say I've received the loveliest offers of homemade soup from friends both near and far...such kindnesses are deeply felt.
I'll return to announce a winner sometime next week. xo