The Truth About Ruby

Ruby rummaged in her cabinet for a snack. She couldn’t get the star dream out of her head. Was it a dream?

Throwing the empty bag in a corner, she grabbed her house keys and a scarf. Her jacket was missing again, but she didn’t have time to look for it.

Pushing open a heavy door, she breathed in warm air and heard the shrieks of playing children. A dozen basketballs bounced a staccato rhythm that echoed through her skull. Squeaky shoes made her cringe.

“You’re late.” The gruff voice was not amused. “And you look terrible,” it commented in a dead pan. Ruby looked up at the director of the children’s center, still shivering. She wanted to flip her off, but held back. “This is your last warning.”

A cherubic 6 year old face buried into her side joyously shouting her name.

“You like my star, Ruby? I used red glitter. I made you a gold one, because it’s shinier, like a real star, like you.”

“I am a star?”


It was as simple as that. Ruby’s heart warmed, and a smile tugged at her mouth.

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