Work Title

Something Special


John Q.A. Elliot


Today was to be special. It had to be. The sun through the windows of the bright reading room was a harbinger. The sun gold-edged the emerald leaves of the lilac bush. It danced across the back yard, painting small platinum flecks between the lacelike ebony shadows of the giant maples. The breeze wafted through the open windows pushing the curtains lazily inward and carrying the sweet dew damp scent of the garden into the room.



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