New Beginnings (5)
She’d written the words so long ago, black ink on pages turned gray, her rage bound up in careful curves of cursed calligraphy. Reading them now etched deeper lines into her aching memory, bleeding drips of the past.
Cassie had done as she was told again—too pliant, too ready for others to know the way. But now the silver of water, greening of leaf, and rose-bud streaks of dawn across the sky had shown her more.
Memories aren’t black and white, and tears aren’t always pain. Tomorrow waits in rainbow sprinklers where children play their games.
Tomorrow and today.