What’s Inside

4 May

3rd Grade

My locket has a shiny front and back. Rusted hinges. Smooth and cold like ice cubes. It creaks when opened, like an old door. Smelling clean. You open the necklace, a smiling baby face looks up at you. You can’t help noticing how creepy it is that someone’s hair is in it. My locket is something I’ve had for eleven years. It will always be with me.

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