Lena

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Lena Page 9

by Jacqueline Woodson


  After a while, I took the sandwiches out of one of the brown paper sacks, folded the wrinkles out of the bag and started sketching. I wanted to catch the glow of the sun, catch the way the mountains moved their faces up toward it.

  When the plane started to take off, Dion put her book down and took my hand. We looked at each other and started laughing, surprised at how fast the plane was moving. The noise it made was louder than anything I’d ever heard.

  “Look out the window,” I said. Dion pressed her face against it and smiled as the plane lifted up into the air.

  A woman sitting across from us leaned over and asked where we were going. I looked at Dion then back at the woman again. “Me and my sister,” I said, feeling a grin spread wide across my face, “we heading home.”

  Then Dion grinned, pressed her face against the window again and started humming.

  And me, I sketched that mountain kissing that sky.

 

 

 


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