“I’m not gonna miss this meteor shower,” says Fiona as
she lies down on the blanket with her digital
camera, some Mr. Chips and her iPod. Eyes
closed, she thinks about the praises she’ll
get when she shows the pictures
to her class. Suddenly she
hears, “Wake up, Sweetie!”
It’s Mom. “Breakfast
is getting
cold.”
This piece originally appeared in Paperbag Writes.
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