paul weinman
BRUNCH
“The season’s getting shorter,”
she whispered at breakfast.
“What are you talking about?”
I said, seeing her smile too long.
Mom said... “The berries...
they’re sweetest right now and
it’ll probably rain tomorrow.”
So we went down
together, then mom left.
And sis said she was going
off to her sweet patch. Did I
want to come with her.
When mom came back
we were late for lunch.
