Riley gazed through her window, the garden bursting with late blooms.
Skylar scrolled through pictures of wildflowers, longing for their scent.
Val touched a withered leaf in her potted plant, sighing.
βTomorrow,β they each whispered, postponing a walk outside.
The days slipped into weeks. One morning, Val, fed up with her excuses, threw open her door. The cool air filled her lungs; the gardenβs perfume embraced her.
She texted Riley and Skylar:
Outside.
Now.
They hesitated. But as they stepped out, sunlight and then laughter greeted them.
more, more, more....
Who was at the door or why were they laughing? Now my imagination is all over the place.