(author’s note: Well well well! Lookie what we have here! One of my pictures! Can’t wait to see what the stories prompt up! Here we go.)
by Miles H. Rost
The names announced. The hats thrown. All that was left were the people as they gathered and started leaving.
Outside of the main auditorium, Quan looked up at the sky as his mother and father were chatting with another group of parents. As they finished, they walked back over to him.
“We’re proud of you, Quan.”
“You made salutatorian, that’s a pretty big honor.”
Quan sighed, as his parents looked at each other, puzzled.
“I could have done better.”
His dad, a former Tianamen Square protester, squared him up.
“Dragonfly, you did the best, and we’re proud. Don’t think otherwise.”