In her treehouse the light pours across the cut camellias and mug of peppermint tea, steam tendrils rising against a periwinkle sky The ancient typewriter sits on the shelf keeping guard over all the books, so many words drawn in wise tenderness by writers before She...
The walls of my house are closing in. I need to step out. Dinner is finished, and I am unloading the dishwasher before I can load it. I jerk a cup from the top rack and realize too late it is full, spill water on my feet and across the floor. A daughter walks through...
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