(Untitled)

[chef_brockett]

            It was an erstwhile afternoon, into the shallow remnants of October. He remembered her, for reasons obscure, as he parked his dented Camry under boughs of grand deciduous oaks and maples lining the off path street. There was a blustery blue sky dashed with white cotton puffballs, all embossed against the stark age of the brick rimmed

Comments

All Hallow's Eve Brought me to your journal

[anonymous]

Hey there! I love this piece. You are really a talented writer. "bough leaves" made me think of Seamus Heaney..do you or have you ever read him? He's one of my favorites. Keep writing!

Meaghan Clark from Xavier