Lost Children

Lisa stood with arms akimbo. “You can stop pretending,” she said. “I know you’re not my real shadow. You keep swinging the wrong arm.”

Her shadow cringed. “I’m sorry. I really am your shadow, though. Didn’t you ever wonder why shadows never look just like the people they’re supposed to be? I’m just not very good at it yet. I’m not used to seeing from this side.”

“This side of what?” asked Lisa, sitting down. “Where are you?”

“I’m where all lost children go, eventually.” The shadow paused and thought. “It’s very cold here,” it added, in case that helped.