The Yellow Tomb
"I don't feel good, Laura," Emily complained.
"What's wrong, Em? How do you feel?" Laura asked. "Is it your head, your stomach, your eyes, what?"
"My head feels like it's spinning."
"Lay down, Em. That might help."
Emily and Laura had got out of bed before their parents on Saturday morning. Laura was standing by the window in the living room. Her smooth blonde hair fell down around her shoulders. Laura didn't even have to comb her hair to make it smooth. It stayed smooth all the time. Emily's hair wouldn't stay smooth even when she did comb it. It just did whatever it wanted to do, which was mostly fly this way and that.
Laura was thin, as were all the Conn girls. But with a thin father and a mother who weighed about 100 pounds, they couldn't rightly expect to be large girls.
"It's snowing!" Laura exclaimed. Emily had lain down on the bed that was in one corner of the living room.
"I love the snow," Laura continued.
"I love the snow too," Emily grunted, "but I hate the cold. I hate November. I hate December. I hate January. And I hate February."