We were doing things with the rocks our mothers had told us not to do. They said bugs and snakes lived under the rocks, but I think they were just afraid we would break something. We thought we knew what we were doing.
When we stood together, people mistook us for twins. The same night-colored hair, the same laugh (though I always thought her smile was prettier).
When we played on the rocks, we always played two sides of the same story. She was the queen, and I was the witch. Or I was the knight, and she was the dragon.
Now and then I see her, and I wave, and she waves back (I’m still jealous of her smile). I will never regret playing where our mothers told us not to. Sometimes, I wish we were still there, on the rocks, together.
This was a response to my latest, most unpopular post How to Write like a Girl. Like, Follow, or tell me what you thought!