I'm woefully short of inspiration this week. I'm overbooked with meetings and sundry commitments.
Plus, all of the short stories I've been teaching are not ones I've read before. While I've enjoyed "Sonny's Blues" and "A Mouthful of Cut Glass," there's something to be said for teaching "A Rose for Emily" for the fortieth time. I still find something new each time, but I can just relax into it.
I found her for fifty cents at the spring post card show. Her name is pencilled on the back. Ann thinks she looks crabby. I think she's been dragged outside and is squinting as her eyes adjust from focusing on teeny tiny sock needles to the wide, sunny expanse of the prairie.
I love her.