Jasmine's Fight
Mama, Where Did You Go?
It was one of those rare, perfect days on the quarter-mile promenade in Central Park. The towering elms' interlocking branches created a stain-glass effect as the sunrays trickled to the hexagonal pavement blocks. The walkway was sparsely filled with grown-ups and children gleefully talking as they strolled through. On the outer edges, thousands of wooden benches lined the walkway, and on one of them, a woman and a little girl could be seen. The woman scribbled in a notebook while the girl admired the robins chirping in the elms. In that fleeting moment, the woman beamed with joy just as she wrote her final word on the ivory-colored page.
