“You flick your wrist like this—see?”
Daryl skipped the stone out over the water and it bounced once…twice…
three times before disappearing gracefully beneath the surface.
“Like that’s gonna help her,” Jamie scoffed.
Daryl seemed to shrink away from me, drawing into the safety of the other boys. They headed inside for lunch.
I weighed another flat stone in my palm, the surface of the lake smoothing out once more.
I contemplated my throw.
Flicking my wrist like Daryl’d showed me, I watched my rock skip once…twice…three times…
four times across the lake.
Smiling faintly, I followed the boys inside.
About the Creator
Kayla Maneen
Truthseeker. Storyteller. Heroine of my own adventure. I’m a study of contrasts—an ouroboros eating her own darkness to spit out the light. Pain and hope exist within us, reflected in our stories. Read a few that I’ve created for you.
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