By Brooke Parry
When I was nine, I filled my room with things from the woods. Owl feathers, raccoon skulls, river rocks. I charged twenty-five cents to see them.
Dirt followed me through the house, and spider mites, too. Mom rolled her eyes and swept the tile. She combed the twigs from my rat’s-nest hair and pulled burrs from my clothes.
When I brought in a snakeskin, she backed against the far wall and said, “Don’t bring that in my house.”
But I was already up the stairs.
Every day, she tapped on my door, opened it, and slid a quarter into my palm.
You have written a sweet, sweet story. Well done. Love the composition.
Thanks Tom! Glad you enjoyed it!
Very touching story. Well written too!
Thank you June! 🙂
Good story filled with love3
Thanks Patricia! Glad you like it 🙂
This is lovely ??
the ?? Was a clap hand emoji btw, didn’t translate through the software !
Haha thank you Laura, I appreciate it!
Your story is wonderful, it warms my heart ??
incredible!
Very sweet. Great characters and SUPERB attention to detail!