Tat
"It's been my experience that parents don't always know what they're talking about."
I say with a light smirk, plopping down on the dirt next to her.
"For example, my father said nothing good could ever come from being a Phorris."
I say, squeezing a clump of dirt in my hands, then blowing on it, dust flying away to reveal a small dirt sculpture of Celia sitting against an oak, sleeping.
"And yet, here's this."