Jemma ran around the beach, arms outstretched, zooming, summersaulting. Zilla followed, treading in her sister’s footsteps. At times she was on her sister’s heels, at other times she carefully walked backwards in the marks her sister made, leaving no imprint of her own.
“What are you two girls doing?”
“Daddy I am going to be a pilot when I grow up.” Jemma continued her flying.
“And I am going to be invisible when I grow up” Zilla said.
Jemma’s first brief, to defend the elusive beach house thief, excited her until Zilla greeted her from behind the bars.
For Charli’s 99 flash fiction where this week she asks:
October 12, 2016 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about a walk across the sand. It can be a literal day at a beach, in the sand box or a metaphor of your choosing. What is the sand like and what does it reveal to the reader?
Respond by October 18, 2016 to be included in the compilation. Rules are here. All writers are welcome