Writing, Musing, Sharing
Maggie cat has stolen my prize, She swats it across the floor. With each swipe of her paw, I hear the rattle of a pebble, skipping across the tiles. She plays with my treasure. I don’t even know what it means. “Shoo,” I say. But Maggie pays me no mind. She’s carrying the bag in … Continue reading Storm Weaver- 5
I’m a keeper of old things. That’s clear, though these days, less and less. Going through boxes of Christmas decorations, I found my childhood stocking. I think my parents bought it when I was born because it’s not the stocking I remember being stuffed with little gifts. For those who may not know the traditions … Continue reading Whose Socks Are These?
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