The warm breeze floats through the air. It’s enough to make her pause. She leans her face into the sun’s warming light and lets the breeze wash over her, clearing out the winter blues. She gently slides her feet out of her sandals and steps down onto the sidewalk. Bare skin to gritty warmth.Her feetContinue reading “Early Spring”
Tag Archives: memory
Fugate Avenue
A Queen City childhood. A little, brick ranch on Fugate Avenue. I don’t remember the house. Or the yard. Or my life there. I was two when we moved out. I do remember wood walls, not the sheets of thin, wood paneling, but solid wood walls. Scores of wood stacked side by side to formContinue reading “Fugate Avenue”
Thistle Porch 