I hope I get her agates when she dies. Maybe not her entire collection, for I don’t want to appear greedy. Even one amber agate to soften the excruciating loss of her. I imagine cradling it. Letting the essence of her wash over me. She would laugh, “There is no agate door to me onceContinue reading “Agates”
What would I be bold enough to tell death if I invited him to join me for a chat over a cup of warm peppermint tea?