The Top

Kira spun the top on Gramma’s kitchen table, and off it whizzed.

Whirring past her orange juice, it teetered side-to-side.

Past her plate, the top approached the marmalade, made fresh from lemons and limes Kira and Gramma picked themselves.

Kira helped stir the sugar — until she tried to eat it and was shooed away.

The top gathered speed as it jumped from table to dish.

There was no escape now — SPLOOSH!

Gramma walked in. She sighed, seeing the marmalade coating the walls and her granddaughter. Gramma reached for the top.

“I’ven’t enough eyes to put on you, Ms. Kira.”


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