I remember running.
We met bi-weekly at the Garden Centre.
Take a seat – pull up a pew – take the weight off – sit down – park your arse – bums on seats – please be seated – grab a chair – put your feet up…
The sinuous, brown roots that gnarled the remains of his grandmother’s kitchen floor moved as the elderly woman shuffled slowly from the table to the sink.
Sunlight streams through broken panes.
I can’t remember why we chose to run to the cottage in the hills. I can’t even remember how we knew it was there. I just knew that we had to run.
This week’s Elephant Image is “Flower House Detroit 38” by Jude Walton.