Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

slow breath of the cool air.

“Thank you, Arthur,” I said.

He looked out at the maple tree, his gaze resting on the lower branches that hung over our fence line.

“I suppose I should trim those lower limbs before the snow comes,” he said, his voice quiet. “But the color is spectacular this year.”

“It really is,” I said. “I am glad we did not cut it back continue reading …