She looks at her reflection. A pug-nosed, slant-eyed, round face stares back at her. It is snowing and dark outside, and she can see, on the windowpane, the mirror image of the classroom and other pupils who look much different from her.
The teacher has told the class to draw trees and flowers. Other kids are tackling their projects with marker pens and crayons.
Breaking from her trance, she gazes down at the piece of white paper. She then inhales, grabs a brush, and paints a tree. A big silver tree.
Other kids peek and laugh. They say there is no such thing as gray trees.
When their teacher comes over, she fidgets.
The teacher looks at her pale tree, looks at her, and smiles.
She waits until the teacher walks away and sticks her tongue out at the kids. They retreat.
She watches the reflection in the window again. A grinning face beams at her.
For Sunday Photo Fiction – March 4th 2018