Dear Emmie Blue

by Lia Louis

Even though I know it wasn’t, the sky is always blue, the sun always shining, in those memories.

“And that’s because you’re a boring bastard,” says Lucas groggily beside me on a sun lounger. “Come on, then, what’s next? Potatoes? Choose one sort of potato to eat for the rest of your life. Me first. Mash.” “Mash?” Eliot grimaces and pulls his aviators down over his eyes. “I may be boring, dude, but you are disgusting.”