Nanny’s Garden


My grandmother was a wonderful woman, her soft blue eyes full of the wisdom of her years, yet they retained a spark of mischief – though at the time I did not know what that meant. Continue reading

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Eighty-Seven Cents


I walked down the street, enjoying the beautiful spring day despite the awkward glances from those I passed. I drew the clean, fresh air deeply into my lungs. I savored it as though it were the dessert of my last meal. Strolling along, outside the wrought iron fence which encased the public gardens, I peered in through the bars at the beautiful new blossoms. My eyes caressed every flower, absorbing every minute detail. Continue reading