I went on a lot of rides with you in that old chore truck.
Isn’t it funny how seemingly random things become connected in our minds?
The wall reached high overhead, ending in a soft curve of petals, pink against the blue of the sky.
The book had been waiting for her as many years as she’d been alive.
August always meant vacation week for my family. We would load up the camper and a tent and make the two-hour drive to the lake, our fingers crossed the whole way that our very favorite campsite wasn’t taken.