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Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1670597
A short story about collecting colored glass on the beach.
My earliest memories are of walking the beach with my sister collecting colored glass. Our mother taught us to look for this glass when we played on the beach. Not sharp but small pieces of red, blue, green, purple, and gold glass. She told us that broken glass would roll in the waves becoming rounded like perfect pearls.

Every day we would greet the morning sun searching for glass. My sister kept the glass in a pickle jar and called it her "little rainbow." I used to tease her about it, tossing sand in her golden brown hair, as she clutched the jar to her chest. My sister liked to play a game with the glass we found. We would each choose a color, and the one who found the most glass of that color was the winner. The competition was rough. Somehow, she always knew where to look for the glass of her color.

One afternoon she found a piece as big as my hand. She held the blue glass above her head and smiled, hers was the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. When the sun set we would count the glass we found like treats at Halloween. My sister made me promise to fill her jar. Though she never knew, I enjoyed looking for glass with her. Even now, in my old age, I still search the beach for that glass. I have filled many jars since then. When the sun is just right, those jars sparkle to life reminding me of my sister, and the smile I will never forget.
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