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Weekly Contest #367
A Day in the Life of a Willow Tree The Eve It was August. My room felt brighter than ever. My fever and the broken air conditioner hanging on the wall had joined forces to make the room feel like an inferno. Mrs. Gabbro, my landlady, had promised someone would be there first thing Monday morning to fix it. She was also my neighbour. The heat didn't bother her nearly as much. “When you get to my age, your bones get as thin as paper, and you're constantly chilly,” she had said with a giggle. I didn't find any of it funny at all. Quite the con...
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