Hugo was unhappy. He’d been left in the tree swing too long. The swing, his favorite, hung from a branch of the biggest Douglas fir on Heffinger Mountain. A snack, a nap, a swing in the sack, and he’d be a happy boy all day. Continue reading
You shout and tell me it’s not fair,
To give you one more chance, to dare.
That moon and all the stars are mine,
If I bow down just one more time.
“I’ll get that for you,” murmured Kathy, sighing, as she rose to fetch her mother’s favorite wool blanket; it had been in the family for ages, but it was the one Elinore had always favored. Continue reading
Bok choy and thin-sliced carrots, a bit past their freshness date, sizzled in the pan. She sniffed the aromas of sesame oil, lime, and Moroccan baked tofu. The sharp scent of sliced onion softened, long layers relaxing, rolling and shining over her cooking spoon. Continue reading
Stepping from the top of one tree to middle of the other, she slides toward the trunk, tests each step. Continue reading