Day 48: March 24 (written)
A tiny flower, leaves shuddering from the strain, shoves through an icy, near solid, sheet of stony earth. The hard edges tear its petals and split its leaves. Ragged, the flower turns toward the sun. But white-gray clouds, drab as spindles of spoiled milk, blot out breakfast. The tiny flowers, petals aching, will have to wait.
Last month, inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I wrote every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can still donate here or please spread the word. I assume, since I set it up, that it’s still available if you want to. Thank you.