Enga mellom fjella

Micro 100 #11 Golden Child [350] 100w 07.02.22

Bronze or silver would've been fine, even as a fourth son I could've been me.

But I was the golden child, flaxen haired and smiley, albeit weak and half-blind.

I fled to the margins, the seat next to the window or door, escape route noted before I entered. In my shell I was alert and wary.

I seldom realized how unpopular I was. It took years for me to realize that the baseball team thought of me as their mascot. Maybe that was a blessing.

Yes, I was the fragile golden child, protected, hid.

Their highest hope and greatest disappointment.