The Little Sunflower

My moisturizer smells like summer. The scent fills my nose as I rest my face against my knuckles; sitting sideways on the green grandfather chair under my window. The cool breeze coming through the open window makes the sunflower on the sill sway, its head pointing in the direction of the afternoon sun as if…

Snowing Embers

“and he said, it started to snow embers, sparks from the sun, a sign of the last battle, a sign the war is won” They’d made it through the heatwave with a dehydrated mind, when all that was wanted was to give up, and in to the bind. The breeze grew colder, chilly and forceful,…