Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
by Louella Lester
Tommy always has to be first in everything. What’s worse is he makes fun of the kids who come last. I know that he wants the big swing, not one of the small ones either side, so I outrun him and plant my bum on the wide strap seat. I pump my legs strong, not sucky little girl kicks, but I’m slipping down, not whizzing through the air, while the chains are clinking and it must be something Tommy’s doing. I went shopping with Dad last night and I secretly stuffed a pair of angel wings, not a witch’s hat, into my jacket pocket. I pull out the wings now and hook them over my shoulders, hoping I can fly.
Louella Lester is a writer/photographer in Winnipeg, Canada, author of Glass Bricks (At Bay Press 2021), contributing editor at New Flash Fiction Review, and is included in Best Microfiction 2024. Her writing/photos appear in variety of journals/anthologies.
