Tags » Fridays At Noon

3.

It had rained earlier, and the scent of fresh cut lawn lingers in the dampness. The drops still clung to the window and the clouds hung low and dark in the sky. 211 more words

Fridays At Noon

1.

A family recipe. Handed down from my grandmother to my father and eventually, after much begging, to me. The same mustard yellow 4×6, creased and ripped, touched by every member of our family. 242 more words

Fridays At Noon