Emmie liked to talk. She talked when her mother pulled up the shade in the morning. She talked when brushing her teeth – foamy white painting her chin. She talked while she pulled her purple panda shirt past her ears. She talked at the kitchen table, her tongue bouncing off consonants and cheerios.
“Esmeralda, if you don’t stop talking, your head is going to fall off,” said her mother.
Emmie talked to her bus driver as she bounced to school. She talked to her best friend, Yasmarie. And to Perilla, Jules and Marjoram. Yasmarie tapped her toe and sighed.
“Esmeralda, if you don’t stop talking, your head is going to fall off,” said Yasmarie. Continue reading