A smile breaks the winter sky like a dolphin's fin parts the sea. She recently discovered the secret to lighting up the room. (Small hint: It does not involve darkening it before entering.) And now she's sure that her smile is a drug to which all who know her (and even those who don't) will become addicted.
Like a small silver sphere in a pin ball machine, she shoots between two extremes. One minute, she's a banner for all who dream of greatness - the next she's a threadbare rug, stepped on and unnoticed but for the occasional mutter about needing to replace her.
But today, she's a bird, the sunshine in the thunderstorm, radiant and whole. The flowers turn to her for sustenance, the trees reach for her light, the songbirds sing for her approval. For, today, she has the secret and her smile is a drug. (But tomorrow she might lose it all and be a threadbare rug.)
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