Saturday, 19 September 2009

Ten



In a notebook from last May:

  At the kitchen table, my daughter sits on my lap, playing with a plastic figure of a lady with a magic wand. In her pretend American voice, she speaks for the toy, “I’ve had a short life, and now I’m going to die.” Then she wraps the figure in shiny paper.
  Another voice: “Now sleep for a hundred years.”
  “Until I’m ten?”
  “Oh, a lot longer.”

1 comment:

Oscar Grillo said...

Sleeping Beauty Rides Again.