A Lily in the Light

by Kristin Fields

Was this the worst thing that could happen ever? Was there nothing worse? Through anything. This wasn’t like her bike slipping out from under her because she’d ridden over wet leaves, knowing forever after that she should slow down and steer around them. She didn’t want this to be something that made her stronger or smarter. It wasn’t fair to Lily, who was a person, somewhere, and not a pile of leaves she could outsmart.

Sometimes she wondered if it was easier to live like her parents did, consumed with what they’d lost instead of trying to hack out a normal life. Today is a new day. She pressed her eyes closed and repeated the familiar words to herself. And I’m happy to be here.

Cerise carried a pink frosted cake on a glass plate, the one they only used for birthdays. Esme felt a stone catch in her throat. Life was starting again, and yet part of her would always wish her mother hadn’t packed away the moon after Lily but had kept making frosted cakes on that special glass plate for her or Nick or Madeline, because they’d always been in reach. They’d been colored invisible instead. The left behind.