The day had finally arrived.

She’d been stalking the mailbox for days, but the envelope, more of a package, really, was waiting for her exactly when she should have expected it.

But she didn’t like to assume or expect anything.

She went inside and tore it open, and pages and little booklets came spilling out onto the kitchen table.

“Honor’s Society”, “Lacrosse Club”, “Women’s League of Voters”, “Writing Group”, there were so many things to be excited about.

The door opened.

“Mom, I got in!”

And as happy as she was, her mother still felt a tinge of lost hope.

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I’m experiencing with different writing styles, as long as they all add up to exactly 100 words, and trying a new AI image generator to help keep looking the same around here. I hope that doesn’t steer you away from my words.