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Submitted to Contest #101
Celia took one last glance at her reflection in the vanity. She saw herself. Celia, the first daughter of Percy Wetmore. There was no question about that. The hazelnut eyes and curved nose were enough evidence. The real question was if any of that would matter after tonight. She swirled and the lacy edge of her knee-length gown spread themselves out like a disk spinning on a spindle. The crystal gems in her earrings glittered like the diamonds they were designed to look like. “Celia, would you please walk away from that mirror and come ...
Submitted to Contest #79
“Toby, why are you not in school?” “Uncle Mike!” Toby shrieked as he slid off the dining chair and raced into Michael’s open arms. “Only you get to call me Mike,” Michael said with a smile, sweeping Toby off his feet. “I miss you Uncle Mike,” Toby cooed, burying his face in the side of his Uncle’s neck. “That’s impossible, I was here yesterday,” Michael said, “And back to the question, What’s a ten-year old blond doing at home on a Monday morning?” Toby toyed with the golden cuff-links of Michael’s white shirt sleeves. “My te...
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