Levitate - N. E. Conneely

“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” Little feet pattered against the floor.
Nancy smiled as Michelle thundered into the kitchen with her eyes sparkling, cheeks pink, and dirt from Mother Earth only knew what on her nose.
Michelle sucked a few deep breaths. “Mommy, look.” She unclenched her hands, rolled the squishy, yellow flower onto one palm, and held it out.
Her nose scrunched, and energy swirled around her.
Nancy caught her breath.
Wobbly millimeter by wobbly millimeter, the flower rose into the air until it was six inches above Michelle’s hand. It stayed there, wavering only slightly, as Michelle transferred her gaze to her mom. “I made it float!”
Tears gathered in Nancy’s eyes. “I’m so proud of you.”
The energy around Michelle fluctuated. Her eye darted back to the flower as it plopped into her hand. The joy started to fade from Michelle’s face.
Nancy scooped her up. “Your first levitation. Now this demands a celebration. Would you like to get ice-cream after dinner?”
Michelle’s eyes widened, and her grin returned. “Can I get cookie dough?”
“Anything you want.” Nancy held her close, not entirely sure if her tears were that of joy or fear. Her first levitation, a whole two years before Nancy had been able to levitate something. She feared her daughter would draw attention, the wrong type of attention, in the future.