Sparkles
A hand against the sheet and the glow of a lamp on the dresser. There were sparkles on her skin. She remembered realizing it with an absent kind of wonder, but being fully absorbed in it anyway, turning her hand this way and that to catch the shimmer of the minuscule flecks of mineral that hinted at themselves on her palm.
The door opened.
"Hi Mom!"
"It's time for bed sweetie."
She obediently wriggled herself under the covers and waited with wide eyes for her mother to come and turn out the lights. As soon as her adult came close enough she stuck out her hands and waved them in her mother's face.
"Mommy look, my hands are sparkly!"
Her mother squinted, smiling. "What do you mean honey?"
"They're sparkly!" She didn't know any other way to say it.
Her mother laughed and squeezed the tiny hands in hers before kissing her daughter on the forehead. "Go to sleep now sweetie. Goodnight." She turned out the light.
A smile graced her lips like sunshine and she opened her eyes. Light filtered in through the curtains and onto the bed. Slowly she moved her hands up into the morning sunbeams. They were older now, heavier. They had more folds for the sparkles to hide in, her skin was no longer as opaque as it used to be, but they were still there, winking in the sunshine. Her smile grew wider and she slowly brought them back to rest in her lap again. They were so much heavier than they used to be. The bones underneath were less bouncy, more brittle.
She tilted her face up and closed her eyes, remembering light on her face, bright and clear. She lifted her hands again.
They weren't heavy, but they did sparkle.
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