Carrot-top, little orphan girl, waiting in the wedding veil lace of cherry trees, finally chosen, awkward dreamer of Idlewild, growing, finding her tribe of Joseph, making Matthew smile, puffed sleeves and run-on sentences, growing up, not famous, but making her village beautiful, finding happiness with her childhood enemy, children playing in Rainbow Valley, and watching the moonrise in silence that is comforting not tight
carrots littered the ground by his feet. he was used to the constant teasing and cruel jokes, but the carrots that came pouring out of his locker was definitely a new one. carrots for carrot-top. next time it will be ginger.
“How are you, kiddo?”
It was the first thing that I would hear every time I walked by this neighbourhood store.
Mr Jacob would always have a carrot on hand. And when he greeted me, he would always hold up that lone carrot, and wiggle.
But it had been many years.
Carrots are stil the same bright colour, same freshness, same juciness.
The manager wears a uniform, and stands upright under the sanitized light. And the carrots do not wiggle.
“Carrot cake?” Anna asked, nose crinkling. “I think I’m the only black person in the world that doesn’t eat that.”
Michael chuckled, a deep and rich sound, making the butterflies in her stomach flap a little harder. “That makes two of us, actually. Though I’ll gladly down a tub of cream cheese frosting if it came down to it.”
Carrot-top, little orphan girl, waiting in the wedding veil lace of cherry trees, finally chosen, awkward dreamer of Idlewild, growing, finding her tribe of Joseph, making Matthew smile, puffed sleeves and run-on sentences, growing up, not famous, but making her village beautiful, finding happiness with her childhood enemy, children playing in Rainbow Valley, and watching the moonrise in silence that is comforting not tight
carrots littered the ground by his feet. he was used to the constant teasing and cruel jokes, but the carrots that came pouring out of his locker was definitely a new one. carrots for carrot-top. next time it will be ginger.
“How are you, kiddo?”
It was the first thing that I would hear every time I walked by this neighbourhood store.
Mr Jacob would always have a carrot on hand. And when he greeted me, he would always hold up that lone carrot, and wiggle.
But it had been many years.
Carrots are stil the same bright colour, same freshness, same juciness.
The manager wears a uniform, and stands upright under the sanitized light. And the carrots do not wiggle.
“Carrot cake?” Anna asked, nose crinkling. “I think I’m the only black person in the world that doesn’t eat that.”
Michael chuckled, a deep and rich sound, making the butterflies in her stomach flap a little harder. “That makes two of us, actually. Though I’ll gladly down a tub of cream cheese frosting if it came down to it.”
Anna giggled. “Yeah, me too.”