Seasons turned into years. Crone started to feel the passing of those years more acutely. She was slowing down, she knew. It took her longer to get going in the morning, and the garden chores became almost too painful to think of. What had taken...
She woke to unfamiliar surroundings. The bed beneath her was much harder than a waterbed, the covers not her usual sheets and duvet but two quilts – they appeared to be handmade, too. She rolled onto her side to see a bedroom much smaller than...
Looking out the window and seeing the clouds, Crone knew the first snow was on its way. It was time to finish putting the garden to bed for the winter. Changing from slippers to her outside shoes, she pulled on her jacket, buttoned it up, and...
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