Beanstalk

By Daniela Chamorro Mantica

It’s not a treehouse, it’s a house-tree—a ledge on the side of the house, reachable by wooden ladder. From here, the family dog is a skittering smudge and she isn’t short anymore.

One afternoon her older sister appears at the bottom of the ladder. “What’s this?”

She thinks about not letting her up, keeping her beanstalk to herself, so she can stay tall forever above the roof shingles, all on her own.

But it’d be nice to have someone to share the view.

“Come see,” she calls down.

One day, she promises herself, she’ll be tall. All on her own.