Excerpts, etc.

July 22, 2016

 “Cumin, Turmeric, Cayenne, Blueberry,” she whispered. “A dash of each, and all together.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

 “Somewhere warm,” she said. “A place where beasts are mild.”

  I could see it, the faraway, in her dark eyes.    

      There was a flower, just one. It grew in a small patch of sun on the forest floor, a tiny splash of pink in last year’s dead leaves, quietly soaking up the last of the spring evening and radiating it back.

     “This is how it all begins, you know,”...

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© 2016 by Bob Bickford