pocket aces

This pup, unknown to the earthen, dead wolf, shows Meadow everything that she misses. His joy fills her ethereal chest with sense of happiness and, if she could, the ghost would cry at his youthful exuberance that is on full display. She sends gusts about him, causing the leaves to dance and swirl around the brown and white boy, playing in the only way she can. The ghost enjoys her time with the pup and silently wishes she could stay here forever.

Another gust and he catches a leaf, crunching it happily in his mouth. Meadow knows he cannot see, feel, or hear her but that does not stop her from stepping up beside him to blow a cool breeze across his neck. Nothing to scare him, because that is not what Meadow does. No, it is tender, like a gentle caress from an old friend. She stays with him as long as she can, making sure that his day is filled with happiness and small magical moments.

When Meadow finally has to leave him behind, she moves to where two mangrove leaves lay on the ground near him and, once more, blows gently on them. They gently rattle and shift, their butts facing outward while the points join together. Her final gift to the youth; a heart shaped out of leaves.



"Speech!"

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