What was on the wall that day.
My grandfather kept a saltshaker in his coat pocket for tomatoes from the garden. He'd stand among the plants and eat.
Heron took a fish at the riverbend. Quick and clean.
My mother kissed each of her grandchildren goodnight before she went to bed. She lived with us. They are grown.
My handwriting on a good day.
Cardinal in the snow. Bright as anything.
The mechanic told me what was actually wrong and how to fix it myself.
I learned to skate on the lake behind my grandparents' house. The chairs we pushed for balance were old kitchen chairs.
Someone fixed my flat tire while I was inside the diner. Wouldn't take money.
My mother taught me to fold a fitted sheet. It took twenty years before I admitted it was useful.
My grandmother gave me her gold ring before she died. I wear it every day.
The checkout clerk noticed I was crying and gave me extra time without saying a word.
The dog leans into me when I rub his ears. His whole weight. Total trust.