Stories

I don't want to read their stories; I want to write my own. 

Table

I moved that old table from the overgrown yard of junk out of the yard and cleaned it the best I could in the fading daylight. It was covered in rotting pears and dirt. 

Now I will have a place to sit and read or drink coffee or just be.

It needs a candle and probably a big umbrella to guard it from the rains that are sure to start any week now; but it's the start of another project to make this place ever more magical.