Lani is my neighbor's daughter. I always see her doing ballet in their back yard, the music only present in her mind. She can dance wearing anything, and will move as if she herself were a human equivalent of a leaf falling in March.
I would watch her smile as she gets her steps right, and giggle when she makes mistakes. She'll do it over and over until she gets it right. I catch glimpses of her meditating before and after every practice. Sometimes with a book, sometimes with her eyes closed.
Today, her family calls us over for holiday dinner. I've heard her talk to herself before when I was out on our yard with my sister, and I look forward to knowing what it would be like is she were to talk to me.
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories (reconstructed)
Short StoryThis is a reconstructed anthology of the randomly generated stories I had in mind during 2015. (Read segment title for the list of unsettling content in each category)
