As she watched Josiah repairing the wood-stove, she nearly wondered aloud. What the hell was she doing? Why come back here? She had no good answer for that; or, more accurately, the answer didn’t seem enough. This baby. Josie was once almost her father-in-law, but she had walked out on his son and this baby …
To tell the story, I have tried to move the woman across the street. She needs to be in front of the neighbor girl whose eyes will seem to have changed color while the woman was gone for more than a year.
A father’s ashes in a blue box on the vanity. Bits of the last heartbreak handwritten on a window. A garden gone reckless for the winter. My secrets are not kept in the usual places.
Days like pages of handwritten manuscripts were caught by the wind, rearranged and lost. I will call that editing and leave it be.
Before the beautiful assistant climbs into the box, I leave, afraid he will forget the rest.
I was often sick when I was little. There were excessive bouts of strep-throat and numerous ear infections. They finally removed my tonsils when I was 6, and that took care of it for a time. Later, I seemed to develop a sensitivity to winter, and a persistent bronchitis would set in until spring. But …