“Hand me the paint brush, would you?” she said.
As I handed her the brush, our fingers met, and a little zap of electricity ran through my body.
Did she feel that? No. She didn’t. She never does.
I pick up the paintbrush and don’t look back.
She likes to write about life and the feelings that go along with it. What can be seen can always be told.
I held her delicate hand while listening to the faint sniffling in the room. I watched doctors come and go as her breathing gradually slowed.
I’d never known her well.
Suddenly, she whispered, “Desk,” and slowly slipped away.
Later, sitting at the desk, I read the words, “I love you.”
Morgan Wehner is a thirteen-year-old girl who likes to read and write, play sports, and eat.
I saw you. You saw me. I saw you seeing me and you saw me seeing you. And yet we passed like cars on a midnight motorway.
I twirled around to watch you go. You’d blended seamlessly into the cloud of people. That was the last time I saw you.
Justene likes writing and filmmaking. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand.