Picture in Sand
by Susan A Shepherd
Yesterday's storm has blown over, and the sun is out. My parents have moved their worktable out to the patio, to enjoy the warm air and the light. Naturally, they want us outside too, so they can keep an eye on us.
Which means I have to look after Kev and Brianna. Not that this bothers me (too much), since Brianna sleeps all the time and Kev isn't bad as much as hyper. But it keeps distracting me. I mean, I'm going to be ten next year, and I haven't even found my talent yet, so I'd really like to have time to myself now and then so I can fiddle with the nine skills until I know where my talent lies.
Father understands, I think, more than Mother does. She tried woodcarving, and got it right on the first try. She still has the pendant she made--a little horse of softwood pine, with a hole through the middle for a string to go through. When you talk to it and hold it in your hands, it makes these tiny running motions like it has places to go and things to see. When I was younger, I used to imagine I could hear it neighing.