always one for a celebration,  even TAME ones.  nothing illegal on her person means... tonight will have a different tune than the norm. head finishing on pillow, not booth cushion. the goods brought to her auntie’s door are homemade--- mostly,  &. entirely touched with love. her heart’s tender enough for the array of gifts to be planted in weaved basket, white ribbon curling around the handle like growing vines. sprouting out: flower bouquet atop wrapped homemade-tiramisu. it should probably go back in the fridge before they pig out, but that isn’t why her knuckles are so quick to knock.
      &. to the open door,  there beams iris &. her wide eyes, smile that’s all teeth.       ‘ happy mother’s day ! ‘