“Pack this lunchbox,” I heard the voice say. And there, before me was a wicker box, square, woven securely together, deeper than it appeared when I first opened it and peered inside. It never occurred to me that I should be handed any other sort of lunch box – not the metal barn-roofed ones that … Continue reading Out of lunch baskets come memories
Ashur bought the biggest bouquet in the flower shop. Long-stem red roses, white carnations – it was spectacular. “That’s the one,” he said to me. “That’s the one I want to buy.” A few minutes earlier, as I waited for Ashur to arrive I’d also bought a bouquet, a more diminutive spray of Gerber Daisies. … Continue reading Ashur’s Roses
This is what it looks like when an stranger becomes an acquaintance and then a friend.