Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Purple mittens

She sat staring out into the greyness as the rain tapped gently on the window. This was her favorite time of year. When she took her morning walks, she could wear the purple mittens her grandmother had knit for her years ago. The air just crisp enough to somedays form a slight frost on the windows and as she picked up her pace, small puffs escaped her lips. “Where was he?” she wondered, dinner was almost ready. Her family had been preparing for the holiday all week. First by scrubbing up a storm