A Flash of Fiction

The Tall Girl

She was tall. Her height a substantial comparison against the standing of others. In her far off eyes she would glare, knowing full-well she was tall. Known for being tall, she was, in her own way, tall.

Her height always separated her, her height always elevated her. Her height was everything to her.

“We’re moving.”

“Where to!”

More opportunity to be the first one people saw when entering a room. More opportunity to be the first one to be seen when entering the room. Her heart was ready to make more people know who she was.

The move took nearly half a day’s travel on plane, and another half day’s drive. The roads climbed  in altitude and declined in their infrastructure. She was ready.

“The people of the village will be here to welcome us to our home for the next six months”

Opportunity… First impressions… Ready.

They pulled up. The long lanky bodies outstretched their arms in welcome. She stepped towards them, astounded. Their sheer height sinking her to the earth.

“How… how could someone be so… tall…”


The girl made one mistake. She identified herself as tall, placing all her identity into one single trait. The secret is, someone will always be more of something, but you will always be all that you have chosen to be. Chose to be more, chose to have more, chose more, and life will mean… more.


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