read
write
members
about
account

 

datedatememberrandomsearch

December 15, 2007
Sunny Sunday afternoon. I’m lying on the couch reading a frivolous novel, though I should be unpacking. But I’ve adopted a Scarlett O’Hara attitude to the maze of boxes today; I’ll think about them tomorrow.

I’m startled from the pages by a loud knocking on the door. Opening it, I see a huge gentleman in his Sunday best. “Ma’am, that your car?” he asks, gesturing to the driveway. “Yes,” I whisper. He puts something in my hand. “Left your keys in the door. I seen ‘em on my way to church.” “Thank you,” I say. “Welcome. Bless you,” he says.