He appeared in the garden of my dreams, and not surprisingly, he began to help me clear the fallen leaves, bundling together bunches of dead and dying plants in preparation for the winter. He was that kind of person.
And finally, he summoned the courage to speak. "Should I be thankful?"
I looked up at him. It occurred to me then that what had happened doesn't matter anymore.
He bent down for yet another bag of leaves. "All the others, they seem genuinely thankful. I keep thinking I should be too."
"Well ..." I began. "Are you?"
Posted by sniffles at November 20, 2003 10:10 AM