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Weekly Contest #35
I keep all his letters folded together and hidden in the depths of my keepsake box. They would never think of looking in there for anything. It’s an old hatbox. A gift from my elderly aunt, who kept it as a souvenir and passed it on to me. Its octagon shape decorated with flamboyant peacocks holds my secrets in its baby blue satin interior. They tease me about it sometimes. Ma’s cry box they call it. Ever since the time my children burst into my bedroom and found me sitting on the floor, crying, with the box opened in front of me. They were ...
It’s cold for this time of year, Maggie. March many weathers, that’s what they call it. Not this year though. It has stayed cold and bright for weeks now. You’d love the daffodils in the park this year Maggie. They’re dancing away in the light breeze. Their yellow faces trying to catch the sun’s rays before it disappears into the frosty night. They’re a cheerful flower, the daffodil. Nature’s way of telling us that the winter is behind us and summer is on its way, isn’t that right Maggie? You used to tell me how lucky we were to have this pa...
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