The air smelled sharply of change. I felt it in her staring eye. I can feel her hatred like a change in the weather.
We walked around the aisles in the peddlers mall. There were paintings of snow-covered bridges and geese in flight, coffee tables, and old comic books. Children in a photograph laugh and laugh with all the brightness of summer colors.
Weeds are posing in their Easter best.
And here is a picture of a woman cutting the last of the roses in her garden. She is Faith unable to utter a word.
