There was something about a downpour that he enjoyed, something cleansing, rejuvenating. Of course, it was always nice to be dry inside when the thunder reared back and roared like a hungry mountain lion, before the heavens ripped open and let her torrents flow. As he sipped his mug of tea, Gide...
I eat toast without butter and drink water and no tea. Even God’s creation of hot grits does not appeal to me. If I put on a black shawl, I could be the poster woman for mourners.I don’t own a black shawl.Principal Vickers asks if I’m sick. He tells me he read on the Internet that orange juice mi...
Could I have dreamed about him once? Perhaps he was the hero in the dream where a man rescued me from hurricane winds as I was about to topple off the dock by Aunt Sheerly and Uncle Tiny’s house and be devoured by a giant shark. Uncle Ropey warned me to be careful about coming out to the Bailey H...