top of page
Hot & Dusty Winds, Blink-Ink, June 2022

Mrs. Riley fell down the stairs, Dad said. No accident, Mom said. She lay there for hours before dying, my brother said. The winds blew hot, churning up dust. Mrs. Riley baked cookies, grew daisies in her garden. Now I was forgetting; now I had their grit in my eyes. 

bottom of page