I’m running, and a little blonde girl is walking towards me. Her round face is just this pink of sunburnt, her eyes are the most piercing blue. She catches my eye, holds it, and wants to mimic my gait. She is half walking, half skipping, a kind of trot-gallop-run in her little girl way. I smile.
Red-headed twins, peyehs, kipahs, matching polos and black pants, round freckled faces. Each mirrors the other’s movements, face to face. Laughing. Sometimes, that’s all you need. I laugh.
This belongs to them, too.