“What about the Fairy Court?” Lolo asked a while later, just as Summer was dozing off. “What’s it like?”
“Bright.” Summer smiled, more asleep than awake. “Mama says it’s bright. Like a star. And warm, and sweet, like lilacs in Central Park in the spring. Papa says there are bees the size of baseballs, and flowers all the colors of the rainbow, and garnets in the trees, and there’s dancing in the evenings, and games, and poetry.”
She could imagine it so clearly, see it on the backs of her eyelids.
She couldn’t wait.
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In January 2017, the wait is finally over.
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