Today I got to write with my good friend Ruthie! Here are my observations:
Hot, brisk tea on my tongue. The cool lulling in the air speaks, whispers “fall.” My skin saps in the moisture, the remnants of the morning, from the air. Crick, tap, skatch, rum. Two men snerk over good times and sports. The skateboard turns out to be rolling luggage. And I am hit with a tidal wave of crisp, nose-twitching perfume. Corny jokes. HA! I can see the moon.
Beth Overmyer 