Inktober prompt three: Miniature
Laughter echoed in the sun-flooded hallway as Brynn’s tiny feet padded their way pell-mell across its carpeted floor, holding a giraffe in her small hand, and spinning around as they flew in her mind. The giraffe’s freshly painted purple and blue spots were smudged, and Brynn’s small fingers bore the colorful remnants of her early morning project. Her waves curled and kissed her chin and rose-melted cheeks, tickling her chin as she giggled. Her mother had been upset at how short the haircut had turned out and wondered if people would think her daughter was a boy now, but after seeing how Brynn’s face shone when she had seen it, all her worries melted and she’d given her daughter a gentle scratch on her back.
Brynn tripped over to the door and grabbed the frame as she watched her mother walking up the pathway lined with gnomes, fairies, frogs, tomatoes, lettuce and poppies.
“Well, hello there Little Miss!” Her mom chuckled as Brynn reached out to help with the grocery bags she was holding. “Put Geoffrey down first, honey.” She instructed, tilting her head towards the coffee table, over to which Brynn ran to set her purple giraffe before coming back, taking a bag from her mother and lugging it into the kitchen.
“Who’s that momma?” Brynn asked, pointing a finger at a neatly framed black and white photo hanging on the wall which displayed a grinning young woman standing in front of Harvard University.
“Why, that’s me. That was my first day at college.” Brynn’s mom replied.
“Was college fun?”
“Yes, I’d say it was…difficult sometimes, but fun.”
“Just like me!” Brynn chirped, pushing the milk back unnecessarily far into the fridge. Her mom burst out laughing, “Yes, Brynn, just like you, though you are much funner than college.”
Brynn grabbed a pack of crackers and walked thoughtfully over to the pantry, “I want to go to college.” She stated suddenly, with an air of determination.
“You can do almost anything you set your mind to, it just takes time and prayer.” Her mother replied as she pulled on an apron and took a bag of rice from her daughter’s noodly arms.
“I don’t like waiting though, I want to go to college now.” Brynn huffed slightly as she coughed and closed the lid to the baking soda. “Not baking powder.” She reminded herself for the hundredth time.
“I know, but you will have to wait, and the time will fly, I promise.” Her mom sighed.
“It doesn't feel like time flies.”
14 years later
Brynn’s mother walked slowly down the dim, grey hallway in her house, and to the front door. She leaned against the door frame as she watched a young woman with long, straight brown hair, hurrying down the pathway which displayed a lonely, broken gnome and a wilted patch of poppies. The woman opened the door to an ancient grey avalon with two Harvard stickers on its bumper and turned to blow her mother a kiss, in the process she vigorously whacked her hand on the car door. She ducked into the car grinning ridiculously, despite her injury. Her mother blew many kisses back and yelled, “Goodbye, Little Miss! Don’t forget to have fun!” In her trembling hand was an old, miniature plastic giraffe with chipped purple and blue paint. Though it was old, she was holding it as if it was the last thing in the world keeping her together. She closed her eyes and held the toy to her chest, thinking back to the day in the kitchen, “It may not feel like it,” She whispered through tears, “But time really does fly, doesn’t it, Little Miss?”
The End
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