She was the first psychic I ever met. The littlest, too.
At her third birthday party she made the prediction, “I’m going to be a year older.”
As though by prophecy, she turned four a mere year later. Then she predicted, “I’m going to be a year older.”
No one had the gift like my little girl. She always knew I wanted strawberry ice cream for dinner, whether or not I agreed. She always knew what movie we were going to watch. And every year she predicted, “I’m going to be a year older.”
She was only wrong once. I miss her guidance so.
I had to read that twice. Beautifully done. *Applause*
ReplyDeleteWow. That is strikingly beautiful. It makes me hope it isn't true.
ReplyDeleteThat's heartbreaking and beautiful. Well done.
ReplyDeleteCute and poignant, all at once. Well done, John.
ReplyDeleteI really liked this one. Simple and sweet, and a touch sad.
ReplyDeleteGreat ending, John.
ReplyDeleteMaybe the only time I've sensed the last line when I read the first. So sad!
ReplyDeleteOh why you sneaky duck! Lovely done though. As always. :)
ReplyDeleteAww how sweet with a touch of sadness - wipes tear away.
ReplyDeleteThat is so incredibly well-handled, John.
ReplyDeleteCute and humorous in the opening with an understated gut-punch of an ending. So sweet, so sad. Nigh on perfect.