Margot Sonia
Stories (6/0)
Statue in the Park
I stand still. Not moving. Never moving. No heart. Nothing inside. Just the cold hard bronze outside. Tunnel vision gives me a view of just one spot, the one spot in the park that’s important to me. The one spot in the world that’s important to me. Every single day I stare at that one spot, unblinking. A brick building towers the park, ivy creeping up its side, holding it in a deathgrip, and extending to every edge of my view. Behind it, a gloomy grey sky sobs into the soft wind, creating puddles along the only road I’ve ever known. And in front of the road is the grass. I’ve never seen any other grass, but I’d bet this is the greenest grass in the world. Its vibrant color glowing against the misery of everything else. That grass is green for one reason, and one only, because the old man with the top hat cares.
By Margot Sonia4 years ago in Humans
Dump Trucks and Lucky Ducks
The couch nearly swallowed my little eight-year-old body in the firehouse on Boylston Street. My sister gazed out the window beside me watching colorful dots scurry around below, her homework resting blank in her lap. I leaned forward to assess the lucky ducks that sat on the center table. They were little rubber toys that my parents bought me for little accomplishments. One for my dance recital. One for the A on my math test. It was only the most elite of my collection since Mom said I couldn’t bring them all: complete with the princess one and police and three dogs. They were deep in secret spy discussion, very exclusive, oblivious to the human commotion around them.
By Margot Sonia4 years ago in Families