The smell of grass mown The touch of sun’s warmthThe sight of white pollen drifting on a soft breeze
I need a corn dog and an Icee. Don’t judge. It’s my busy season, and I comfort eat.
The wind picked up her hair and played with it, dancing high, then dancing low. Her crown was a scarlet fleece cap. Cheeks flushed. Lips…
One day soon the sun will warm the air again
With those words, she turned and walked away from me, red umbrella bobbing up and down. I stood there in the rain like an idiot, watching her…