her summers dress, a mirage of the sun, gleaming yellow. the english sun shines stronglyabove, yet its not a bother.A little bonnet hat sits upon her hair tied tight behind her ears. she sitson the swing that istied strongly to the big oak trree and built by her father when she was just a young little girl. She swings soflty too and fro, letting her dress get muddy at the hem.With her book upon her lap( which she readsevery day) she reads its content with aspark in her eye. soft swwet memories flood back into her head of her father reading her this book every night before she went to sleep...... until the day he died in his sleep. Over and over again does she read it in the same place where her father and her swung every saturday afternoon. she looks up and smiles....
"Hello daddy", she says as if he is standing right infront of her.
she feels his presence. a breeze blows through the garden, her skin prickles.
To her, he is still alive.
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