Josie’s wings

Josie stared up at her mum. She felt like crying but seeing the smile on her mum’s face, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead she replicated the grin, a little too wide, she felt, but it seemed to do the trick as her mum straightened one of Josie’s wings then headed to the kitchen singing yet another carol.

All Josie wanted was to wear black. Pink really wasn’t her, and yet she couldn’t say anything to her mum, she seemed so happy and to her dad, Josie would always be his little princess.

Glued to the TV, Elliot, her teenage stepbrother, kept stabbing at the remote’s volume button until it was almost unbearable.

Josie looked towards the kitchen expecting her mum to appear but she didn’t. Josie coughed loudly and tapped her feet, making Elliot turn round.

“What?” he growled and turned back to the TV.

It was Josie’s turn to growl, her wings fluttering in sympathy. She looked at Elliot, studying his clothes; black t-shirt, black hoodie, black jeans and socks, worn she suspected to taunt her.

“Not fair,” she whispered. “You get to do what you want. Not fair, not fair, not fair…”

As she headed to the kitchen she caught a glimpse of her wings in the hall mirror; not innocent pink as they had been when her mother had straightened them, but both lined with a hint of her favourite colour.


Photography courtesy of

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