Whispers in the Wheat The late afternoon sun poured molten gold over the vast wheat field as Katy wandered barefoot through the swaying stalks. A soft breeze lifted her hair, and the rustling wheat whispered secrets only the wind could understand. Clutched gently in her hand was her treasured Barbie, the same doll she’d adored since childhood. Its sequined pink dress still shimmered faintly, catching bits of sunlight like tiny stars. She found a quiet hollow where the wheat formed a natural alcove secluded and perfect. With a giggle, she knelt down and began creating a world just for the two of them. Twisted strands of wheat became royal fences, daisies were scattered as banquet tables, and a crown of tiny petals was placed upon Barbie’s head. “You’re Queen Aurora today,” Katy announced ceremoniously. Her voice rose and fell with fairytale flair, and her laughter echoed lightly across the field. Then the music in her heart took over. She stood, spinning slowly at first, Barbie held aloft like a dance partner. The wheat bowed around her as she twirled and giggled, her sundress billowing like soft waves in a summer lake. Her joy was uncontainable, the kind that bubbles up and overpure, bright, and completely her own. As the sun dipped lower, painting the clouds in shades of peach and lavender, Katy finally collapsed into the wheat, Barbie tucked snugly beside her. She watched the sky turn, cheeks warm, heart full. “Tomorrow,” she whispered to her doll, “we come back for the coronation.” The wheat sighed in agreement, and the field kept her secret.