beckity

I pull the comb through her long hair, a tangle snagging at my hand. 'Ow' Elsie flinches. 'Naughty knot!' 'Sorry' I say and scoop all her hair back behind her ears. 'Go choose a book.' Molly already has one in her hand. 'Basia!' she declares, and Marek takes it from her. He sits, one girl on each knee, and I look on, taking in their expectant faces. Marek reads, pointing at the pictures and asking questions. 'Who can see Basia?' Molly points. 'Which dress is she going to wear?' 'The pink one!' Elsie cries. A pink dress. Unbidden, the image flashes in front of my eyes. It's been haunting me all day and that achey feeling in my core just won't go. She must have been somewhere between the ages of my two. 3 maybe. Floating. The picture was sickening but curiously peaceful. An arm raised by the waves, little legs out straight, shoes still on. Tightly curled hair cropped so short it wouldn't have been clear