Floating Petals

You can sit by a river all day long just to watch what the current carries past. Depending on the day and where you live, it could be small boats of fishermen, children in inner tubes, trees bound for the sawmill, or bodies. And the only thing they will have in common is the river itself. The same is true of these stories. They range from a first day at school, to running away from home, to the breaking of feet, to the trials of a sparrow, to the death of a husband still alive. And their only common element is me and what flowed through my mind the day I was writing.