Daily story, May 4, 2025

When it was over she felt like a dandelion clock, ready to break into a hundred pieces when the wind blew. It was too much, to hold on to all those pieces, but to let go of them was more. She closed her eyes and bowed her head and waited. As the sun fell low, someone raised her to their lips and blew, gently. She scattered, and landed, and grew, and she granted them a wish.