by Eric Smith
“It’s blue.”
“I like blue.”
“You don’t like kittens?”
Farah smiled. “I’m allergic. You don’t like ice cream?”
“Lactose intolerant.” Daisy passed the wish between her palms like a slinky. It felt warm like a tiny candle flame but had no weight of its own, like grasping air itself. She held it closer to her face.
“You can’t wish on broken pieces,” Farah said softly. She scooted closer, the jar forgotten in the new grass between them as Daisy stared at the whole wish. “What do you wish for?”
“I’ve always wished for a family,” Daisy whispered. “Home.”
Farah’s shoulder touched Daisy’s. “Those are big words. Family. Home.”
Daisy rested a bit more of her weight on the warm spot where their shoulders touched. “I don’t know if it’s real.”
Farah was quiet for a moment. “I can’t see that wish, but I know it’s real because I saw yours. And . . . and even though they’re not the same, they both exist, right?”
Daisy nodded. Her eyes stung at the corners. Her vision blurred the wish, smearing the blue across her palm like paint.
Farah’s hand covered the wish in Daisy’s palm. “Maybe . . . maybe it’s something different for you.”
“Families or wishes?”
Farah smiled and pressed their palms together. Blue light slipped out of the cracks and warmth rolled up Daisy’s arm. “Both?”
Daisy watched the light escape. “I didn’t wish for you.”
Farah squeezed her hand tighter. “I didn’t wish for you either, but it’s not all bad, yeah?”
Daisy picked up the open jar and tipped it over, spilling the pieces of wishes across the grass. The wind caught them and spun them up in the air like escaped dandelion seeds. As the girls watched, their whole wish still clasped between their fingers, the pieces spiraled away higher and higher until they disappeared into the sky.
“What did you wish for?” Farah whispered.
Daisy smiled as she stared at the clouds. “Nothing.”
Tristina Wright is a blue-haired bisexual with anxiety and opinions. She’s also possibly a mermaid, but no one can get confirmation. She writes YA SFF novels and short stories with queer teens who become heroes and monsters. She enjoys stories with monsters and kissing and monsters kissing. She married a nerd who can build her new computers and make the sun shine with his smile. Most days, she can be found drinking coffee from her favorite chipped mug and making up stories for her two wombfruit, who keep her life hectic and unpredictable. 27 Hours will be her debut novel in October 2017. Meanwhile, you can find her guest posts and short stories scattered around the internet via tristinawright.com. Still trying to figure out the mermaid thing.