Across the road from my home is an apartment building. It is made of brown brick and has three stories.
It also has plenty of windows I often forget about while I go about my daily and nightly routines.
I also forget my curtains are white, lacey and see-through scraps purchased from an aisle in Wal-Mart.
Fifteen apartments. That may all house people with binoculars.
It was the muggiest night this past summer had owned.
Brenda was down for a visit and when she comes, it usually means a night spent over on my couch for her. Brenda lives in another town.
It was one in the morning, no sleep to be found between the two us. We sat slouched on my front porch trying to capture the occasional breeze offered, sucking it deep into our lungs, praying it would cool us down.
Our glasses of Pepsi sweated warning us how warm the drink would taste in our mouths.
"Tilly! Tilly!" the shout sat our spines straight as we looked across the street to the where the sound was coming fr...
Comments
:)
but it's my favorite of your posts...that and the one about bill being killed. both sit with me and pop into my head from time to time...
i'm so honored that you read and enjoy my blog. i am always excited to curl my fit beneath me and read more of your wonderful stories.
thank you so much.
I have always been thrilled when you left me comments.
Thank you for these words posted above me.
You have left me smiling as I head off to bed.
Q
You are all spendid, in my mind.
Q
(ignore Q the comment directly above, that is blogger being stupid. blogger should be shot some days. no more cookies for me.)
Q