The Orchard
The view from the back porch was spectacular. White blossoms covered every single tree, looking like giant marshmallows clustered on strong, brown arms. Morning spring rains had freshened the air, releasing the sweet flowery scent and dampening the ground, feeding thirsty roots.
Marta smiled as she imagined how proud her husband would be, if only he was still alive. Burt would have stood thereβ¦
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