v u l v a l i c i o u s baby sister 2016-03-20 // 2:31 a.m. Dear Little Sister, You'd be turning 28 this year. Would you ask me about your Saturn Return and let me send you Chani Nicholas horoscopes and read your tarot? Or would you be getting married, settling into some apartment in the south with a boy not good enough for you? Would we have fought, growing up? Would you have followed me around and asked to go drink tea with me, or would you have seen that I was not at all cool, the girl getting made fun of even if I had friends? Would you have ended up at the same college as me and our older sister? We'd have shared class colors and cheers and stories. Maybe even if we'd never gotten along it would've worked out by your graduation. How would you feel about our mom being so sick? About our dad running himself ragged to take care of her? Would you already be there? Would you be far away, like me? I want to know. I want to look into the universe where you didn't die and see what it's like there. Instead I will call our parents and hope that mom doesn't realize what day it is. I don't want her to be sad. She's always so sad today. It's always the first day of spring. So much hope and promise. So much green. It's too bad you aren't real--aren't here--to live it. back-forth