A Wild Apple Blossom

Everyone was a baby once. Like my sister frances, she was a cute pure blond, like I was, like Elizabeth was, like my mother was; but now we are dirty blond, burnette, and just plain brown (maybe with a bit of dirty blond mixed within it).

Her name was going to be Emily, Ruby, Victoria, Milly; but no... it was frances, like I said it would. Everyone has had many doughts about what their name was going to be; like mine, Crystal, Isabella. Or Elizabeths - Rosie, or maybe Izzie.

But now frances is golden all shiney in the sun, blooming like a wild apple blossom waiting to see the world from her own eyes. She calls hersealf Franchesca, as her italian friends do. She goes and dances like a fairy would in the moonlight, on fridays.

Frances, the girl who is so much taller each day she swivels past me...