The Two Sisters by Theodore Chasseriau
I envied her abilities to dance, the way she moved about, gracefully as if gravity did not restrain her, rather worked with her, propelling the movements into the air like a symphony.
She had been beautiful in every sense of the word, while I was the average sister, waiting behind her, to be noticed, to be seen.
At times, in my poor judgment of youth, I dared to express the anger that arose, through many actions, and hurtful words, but she always smiled.
Always, patiently, lovingly.
But none of that mattered now, as I stood outside of her hospice room, still grasping with the concept, that I would lose her, soon.
Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014
This post was inspired by this weeks Five Sentence Flash Prompt: Envy.