thetrueCrystalVixen

The Girl In The Photograph It was a crisp morning, one Autumn day, when I was sitting in my kitchen, looking out at the back garden. I tapped a finger against the wood grain of the kitchen table, though well cared for and clean, the wood seemed polished at the settings, more worn than usual.I wondered if I had been sitting more at the table than usual, to read or eat, to go over the copious amounts of bills that seemed to pile up every month; there had to be a better way to sort and store bills than a filing cabinet. With a sigh, I glanced up at the clock on the wall above the extended kitchen bench, it was not too long after dawn with a handful of minutes where the golden glow of the sun lit up the kitchen with a warmth.Turning my head back to the garden, I saw the same golden glow, casting shadows from the trees, leaves cast in a halo of light. The numerous flowers, many I had planted when I moved in several years ago were unfurling at the touch of sunlight, greeting the day with