The little girl under the clothesline.

 

Shorter than most, this story begins with a moment in time that hasn't happened yet. It is a look into the future by someone who lives in the past. Which, if you think about it, makes it a story about now.

Emily is on her death bed. She is telling her daughter about her life. She wants to make sure that she has told her the precious memories that have been with her all these years. Her daughter wants her to conserve her energy. She thinks she has heard all these stories already. She makes sure the tape recorder is recording and allows her mother to go on. 

Emily was sitting in her rocking chair, holding the baby. She started to think about days when she was a child. She remembered a special day. She wanted to make sure that when the baby was older she would remember the story so she could her tell it to her. She felt it was important. 

She was just six years old and was a shy child. She loved the outdoors, the sights, the smells, the tastes, the adventures found in the most unusual places. Her imagination ran wild with worlds of talking snails and fencing crickets, and wondering every day, "What did Katy do?"

On this particular day she was playing under the clothesline, watching her mother hang the sheets to dry. She wondered if mommies thought about the little tiny creatures in the grass while she worked. She asked her mom and to her delight, her mother stopped working and came and sat on the ground next to her. Her mother said, "Yes, dear, I think about them, but mommies don't have as much time to dream about the little things as little girls do. We have to do the laundry, and keep the house, and make sure our children are safe and happy." The little girl was sad and thought she would never be a mommy then. Her mother said, "Let's take some time to do it now. Let's think about the ants who live in the grass." She and her mother sat in the grass for a long time, making up stories, and talking about the language the ants would use. Or it seemed, to her, like a long time. Mommy had to get up and finish with the sheets. 

Emily, the little girl, now on her deathbed, began again, "I believe I was around six years old. It was a sunny day in summer and my mother was hanging sheets on the clothes line. I was playing in the grass and looking for worlds even tinier than mine..."