Brittle Nails and a Disputed Greenhouse in Autumn

dark stroke, her shoulder relaxing slightly as she worked.

“Are we still going to use the organic fertilizer for the spring starts?” she asked.

“The sixty-four dollar box of organic fertilizer is still in the back shed,” I said. “We will need two more before January.”

Sarah made a note in the margin, the lead clicking against the paper. Her silver necklace continue reading …