Even the Sun Cries

“How much money do you think we’ll make today?” Irma asked as she unfolded the table cloth. She could hear her mom’s voice. Presentation is always important.

Rosa gave a tiny shrug. “Not sure, mi madre said that it’s gonna be hotter than yesterday.” She carefully set the heavy glass pitcher of lemonade on the table.

“Mine too! It’s almost like we’re sisters!”

They grinned at each other. Best friends were better than sisters anyway. Best friends never tattled on each other unlike their real sisters. They picked up their FRESH LEMONADE! signs and moved to the edge of the curb.

Brakes screeched as a car took the corner too fast. Two soft thumps sounded as the hood of the El Camino took both of the girls by surprise, throwing their limp bodies through the air like rag dolls that crashed into their carefully set up table. The pitcher full of lemonade cartwheeled once before falling to the sidewalk with a whimper.

As the three broken forms lay there, unmoving, sunshine dripped and pooled around them.

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