Cookies Delight

     There’s a bit of soft melody that surrounds this particular bank. The water that swishes in and out often began the music that she listened to. She, being, Megan. Megan Gardiner spent her days lying around on the very green grass that separated the concrete from the pebble-filled water.
     She sits at the edge where the sun seemingly meets the land and where water kisses the ground. The pebbles would often just sit, sit with her and entertain her. They didn’t march about like the ants and other insects around. She didn’t know if she liked it or not.
     For as long as Megan could remember, she’s spent her afternoons watching the sun set, watching it hind behind earth as if it were afraid of the moon, but she knows it’s not afraid because before the sun leaves, he glances at the moon with a reassuring smile. He knew the moon would be motherly to everyone and anyone when she needs to be. She wasn’t afraid of the sun’s quirkiness.
    She liked his disposition much more than she likes that the stars.
    But Megan didn’t particularly dislike the stars, she just didn’t think they were as bright and not so delightful because they didn’t shine like he did.
    Megan took a particular liking the boy on the other side of the bank. She liked him so much that she decided, the next time she visits the pebbles and the marching ants, she’d have something to give him. A gift of any sort.
    So, she went home, learned all that she could from her mother and anything that a 6year old is allowed to do around such things, things like knives.
    She pushed to learn how to bake because the marching ants loved baked goods while the pebbles loved how some baked goods can look like them.That always excited her, too, when her mom would pack her a good enough amount of pie.
    When she baked, she often let the air come in in hopes to hear the music from before, but nothing would ever visit her, not even a small chime of a triangle or a soft twang from a harp. She even would have loved to hear familiar faces, but not even her mother would stop by.
    But that was alright because she knew her mom trusted her.
    When she returned to the bank one fine day, she saw the pebbles still sitting and the ants marching off with food already at the palm of her hands. She grumbled at this, her grumbling mixing with the soft melody.
     She sat on the patch of grass she often lay on. She liked listening to the music playing about. She saw the boy look up at her with a grin. She quickly took out the bag of cookies from the pockets of her book bag.
     She often listens to the wind sing under the blue clear sky with her book bag on one side and a blank parchment on the other.
     Today, she had with her the cookies and a parchment that said: Let’s share the music and cookies.

Author's Note

author's note: It's a first draft for something- I just didn't know how I could write it. So, please, if you have any idea or any corrections, please feel free to review. The idea is in my head, but execution is still quite iffy.