I used to resent it. Deeply.
Maya walked in, wearing her high school volleyball hoodie. Without a word, she reached up, her long arm extending effortlessly, grabbed the box, and set it on the counter. "No," she smirked, pouring herself a massive bowl. "I did. Keeps the short people from eating it all." I used to resent it
The taller boy laughed, but it was thin. He looked at his friend. They looked at Lena’s shoulders, at the deliberate way she planted her feet, at the fact that she hadn’t flinched. A long three seconds passed. Then they stepped aside. Without a word, she reached up, her long
Standing outside the graduation hall, we wore different caps and similar smiles. Lily’s shoulders carried a medaled ribbon; mine held a stack of letters of recommendation. Parents took photos: two siblings, side by side, and in the crowd someone whispered about how Lily towered above me. I leaned into her, a small elbow nudge. She laughed, a sound like wind through new leaves. Keeps the short people from eating it all
One anonymous user on a popular storytelling forum wrote recently: "I used to carry her to bed when she fell asleep on the couch. Last week, she carried me to the car when I sprained my ankle at a barbecue. I weighed 150 pounds. She didn't even breathe hard. I needed to find stories like mine just to prove this was normal."