It seems to her that humans have only one spring, one summer, one fall, and if they’re lucky — or not, depending on your perspective — one winter.
Author: Camille Armantrout
Camille lives with her soul mate Bob in the back woods of central North Carolina where she hikes, gardens, cooks, and writes.
Categories
One Hundred and Twenty Hours
One hundred and twenty hours after my mother took her last breath, we gathered around a deep hole and covered her casket in roses.
Categories
Women in Black
The water shimmers baby blue beneath a blushing pink sky and it seems Bob and I are the only people on earth.
Categories
End of Empire
The moist air is already sticking to your arms at 7:00 AM, the pores in your armpits twitching like a horse in a starting gate.
We opened the door and peered in at what had once been a hub of activity, our old kitchen, all tore up and abandoned.