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Theresa’s Boots

you caTheresa’s toes curled at the tips of her worn boots bruising her toenails against the frozen seams as she pulled the toboggan that carried her younger sister. She trudged through the footprints laid out in front of her teetering awkwardly with every step. She was careful to avoid the deep mounds of fresh snow aware of the icy sting it would bring to her feet. Rita walked at her own pace in front of them creating the path for Theresa to follow. Occasionally Theresa would feel a glare as Rita turned her long neck making sure she was keeping pace. Rita would not offer to help pull the toboggan even though she was two years older and decidedly stronger. Rita’s responsibility was greater. Her hands tucked warmly into her woolen coat held tight Momma’s coins which would buy the bread and potatoes that would feed all of them tonight….