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Weekly Contest #71
“Just let me off here”, she urged. The yellow cab pulled abruptly to the curb. Ginger stepped out into a pile of frigid slush, thoroughly sopping her ankle height boots. It had been a gruelling day and her now, wet ankles and pelleting sleet did little to improve upon it. Grandma had not lingered. For that she was grateful. A life well-lived. She chose to ruminate on that to keep the dull pain at bay. It could wait until after the holidays. Christmas Eve, eve. She and grandma loved the holidays and there was no way that Ginger was going to l...
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