I bore witness to my daughters’ sisterly complicity before the house first stirred.
My daughters, Boticelli nymphs basking in the morning light. They giggled and spoke in hush tones. I stood back, sole witness to their shared bond. Their unbreakable pact.
Brick by brick they skillfully lay this powerful foundation. Their twin hood, a shelter.
I quietly ran for my camera, eager to capture their grace before the house rattled with our son’s war cries.
November 9, 2009