Up High

That evening she had tramped out across the wheat fields trying to find a spot to look at the stars, but it was cloudy. She plodded a certain distance and realized that everywhere a dark shadow was hanging above the land, and that if her mother peered down she would not be able to see the lights of the town. Or perhaps, just perhaps, the lights were bright enough to penetrate through the thickest of cumulonimbus, and her mother would glance down and smile at the faint glimmer of life.


Writing month, day eight, word count: 8382

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