There was this window. It was elaborate with lead lines arching throughout the clear glass. A few of the small pains had broken and an expert was needed to repair. This was just one small detail throughout a restoration of an otherwise disaster house. Yet, the passion the leader had to restore the house was…
The houses are constructed. The icing glue is set. Cousins are waiting patiently at the dining room table, resisting attempts to get into the building materials: red and black licorice, sour patch kids, jujubes, and snowcaps. Soon the butter knives are in hand and the fun begins! Globs of icing lazily hold a candy here…
Pink knit hats with soft bear ears. Small bundled faces staring back at me, their cheeks flush with the winter wind. They sat warmed by the fire.
The line is set. The distance between is precise. The inevitable push is lurking. Click, click, click, click, the porcelain rectangle hits the next, and the next, and the next. All the preparation has paid off. The line moved in tandem with my expectations. Click, click, click, one fell after the other as if passing…
I am driving on the interstate heading west. Through the wintery trees and between worn guardrails, my path curves up the on-ramp. Carefully I check blind spots. Merging onto the road now heading south, I accelerate.