Mia watched the shadow in growing frustration. Her mother was speaking in their shadow sign language, but the silhouette of her blowing hair kept obscuring her hands.
“I can’t understand!” Mia shouted.
Her mother’s hands dropped, then formed a heart.
A cloud passed over. When the sun reappeared, she was gone.
Mia’s father found her sobbing ten minutes later.
“I just want to see her again.”
“Me too,” he said. “But she’s dead, honey. I envy your gift of seeing her shade in full sunlight.”
He surreptitiously picked a long wig hair from his sleeve and went to hug her.