Waves

Mia-and-Perla, side by side for the past thirteen Great Seasons of the Tree. Always. At least until two nights ago when the world swallowed Perla. On the day of the biggest quake, when the children were digging through the rubble, listening for cries and moans, sifting the dust and stones for any useful objects as they dug, Mia's hands busied themselves by grabbing any part of the past she could hold onto. She stood on the pile and thought about what might be under it. And then she found it-the teacher's cabinet-where the storybook, worn and ancient, waited to be found. "Was it my fault that you were swallowed in the night? Was it because of what I did?" Everything was already falling apart before Perla disappeared, before Mia stole the old storybook.