By Michelle Webster-Hein

February 8, 2014


Had it not been for the vainglorious crimson cardinal strutting up and down the branches of our lilac tree, I might not have noticed the discreet female who landed on a nearby branch and pretended to be interested in something else.

She reminded me of myself at sixteen--plain but curious, aloof, the kind of girl who imagined much more than she actually lived. When he flitted off and she followed, I had an urge to call after her, assure her that, in a few years, she would be grateful.

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