Photo: Sue Vincent
“You’ll stand on one side of the bridge, and I’ll cross it to the other.”
Sylvia could be tricky. Sometimes the spunky neighbor was a delightful friend. Other times … not so much. And that’s not counting mishaps. Millie lost tally of how many times her playmate had landed her in trouble.
Millie’s hand rose to absentmindedly rub her backside. It still sported a bruise from the last ‘adventure’ Sylvia took them on. That tree limb would never grow again, and Millie’s piggy bank was half-emptied from the fine her parents had levied.
She looked at the pond. The water lilies floated serenely on the surface. A dragonfly hovered before dipping elegantly to paint a ripple. A frog leaped and splashed and swam underneath a wide green leaf. A bird chirped nearby.
It was perfect.
“I’m fine just relaxing here on the bank,” Millie decided.
“We won’t disturb anything,” Sylvia countered, flinging a braid behind a shoulder.
Millie shuddered. It was one of the things that were uncanny about Sylvia. Millie was positive the girl could read minds.
“I brought a ball,” Sylvia enticed. “And bread.”
The ball must be Denny’s, Sylvia’s brother, and almost certainly swiped without permission. The bread? Well, that was probably not ill got.
“No ball,” Millie said, then sighed. Somehow she always gave in to what became a kind of bargaining, when she in fact wanted none of the options to begin with.
“Great!” Sylvia scampered across the narrow bridge. “I’ll toss bread crumbs in the water and make some waves. You corral. Let’s see how many frogs we can get!”
For Sue Vincent’s Write Photo