Very Short Story

A west wind gathered moisture off the lake. Emma admired the aplomb of the figurines she hung on the tree. Not a single frown about their mandatory seasonal duties. She heard the walls creak as the wind picked up outside.

"Sweetie, are you packed and ready for our flights in the morning?"

Oh, please, she prayed, please, save me from this trip. Outside, the lake, so recently lifted into the sky, began to fall in fat, heavy flakes.

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