What was on the wall that day.
The teacher who hugged me when my grandfather died. She wasn't supposed to. She did anyway.
My mom kept all of my report cards. Each in its own folder.
Saw a snapping turtle the size of a hubcap by the boat ramp.
My father took us to the airport just to watch the planes. We never went anywhere. We just watched.
My mother taught me to fold a fitted sheet. It took twenty years before I admitted it was useful.
A clean swimming pool in the morning.
My great-aunt was a nurse for fifty years. She told me stories of kindness from her patients. Not the other way around.
I have a friend who is honest with me. The kind of honest you have to earn.
Cold sheets in summer.
My pen wrote smoothly all the way through a meeting that I didn't want to be in.
Bears come down from the hill in fall to eat the apples. We leave the apples.
Old library book that smells like a hundred readers.