Lizzie and the Kite

A strong gust of wind pulled the kite high into the air. The pink kite spun against a sea blue sky with puffy white clouds. Pulling the string tighter, it twirled in the air, heading downward until the little girl tugged the line and started running; her excited squeals echoed across the park with the next gust of wind.

Her mother sat in the field, her face beaming with a bright smile as she lifted the camera with its big telephoto lens and snapped a few pictures. The girl dashed towards her mother, their eyes meeting in shared excitement as another gust of wind tugged at the kite. The girl's arm trailed behind her, and the kite took a nose dive, careening towards the grass.

The little girl's foot sunk into a rut, causing her to stumble forward and roll onto the ground, the kite string dislodging from the girl's hand. In an instant, her mother was on her feet, dashing forward reassuringly.

"Lizzie! Are you all right?" she called.

"My kite!" Lizzie yelped.

Her mother swung into action, racing forward to retrieve the pink kite as it danced around on the ground, moving further away as the wind picked up a notch.

"Mom, get it," Lizzie called, her voice filled with determination, now on her feet again and racing after them.

The mom managed to step on the string and prevent it from going further. Lizzie caught up, reached down, and picked up the string. She pulled the pink band out of her hair and wrapped it around her wrist.

Memories of a time long ago flooded my mind. On a bright and windy day, I ran wild with my children at the park, chasing after runaway kites.

WC: 295


Prompt: Wind, Photo, Band