It was her annual trip...
...when in an elevator she had traveled in over half her life, she pointed to the worn patch of wood and said, "This is still here."
After dinner the missing of mothers drifted into words.
I looked up.
What was still here was how certain nights still felt like Florence if she were a New York evening.
So we wandered and looked at what was still here.
Hot hawk water sports - So far, it's been an uncomfortably hot and humid summer in the city, causing a lot of people and wildlife to take refuge in the shade during the day. The T...
19 hours ago