7/27/13

Penny, n. by Madeline McDonnell

The bedroom walls were cluttered with mirrors, and, as her mother read, Penny watched her lips move inside the silver. She let the mirrors turn to windows, let her mother's muttering mouth become a fluttering cardinal. Until it was just as her mother had said: they were outside amid soothing birdsong, they were sun-kissed already, and they hadn't even gotten out of bed.