Two women:
born halfway across the world—
one in Minnesota and the other in California.
Two women:
one a self-published, nonfiction writer;
the other dreams of seeing her fictional works published.
Two women:
one an educator dedicated to guiding and molding young high schoolers;
the other long denied her innate teacher blood.
Two women:
one escaped Minnesota winters and followed her husband-to-be to California;
the other fled to Arkansas, desperate to escape memories of a life no longer hers.
Two women:
one resides encased in a permanent home of dirt and grass with a marble headboard;
the other retires her childistic views and spreads her wings, ready for true adulthood.
Two women—alike but different, as is the case with mothers and daughters.
Perhaps there’s truth in the old proverb: the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
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