Kites in a Southern Sky

 

As written in the style of the author, Truman Capote

The Georgia Christmas air was crisp but gentle, carrying the soft scent of pine and familiarity. Miss Lilian, her eyes still holding a childlike wonder, smoothed the silk of her new kite. Beside her, little Pip, a Boston Terrier with ears like polished leather, trembled with an urgent, devoted energy. The kite was a gift she hadn’t needed, but Pip understood the possibility of flight. With a soft murmur, she tied the twine of his kite to his collar, a ridiculous, lovely connection. In the damp yard, she tossed the scarlet diamond. His didn’t fly high, but it bobbed and swayed, a splash of color pulled by Pip’s joyous, snorting engine of Christmas spirit—a perfect exchange of a piece of the sky for a piece of her heart. 

Click for Day 8

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