Jane and I wrote together this morning, and in our usual Connection Well way, we both wrote the same. Our style is different, but the theme is the same. We share one sleigh.
In the still dark of an early winter morning the latest rain has stripped the mulberry and glued its leaves against the stones.
They are immovable against my broom.
My neighbor¹s kitchen light cuts through the narrow spaces between the fence slats transmit her morning gestures to the corner of my eye. The whistle of her kettle, mine.
- Jane Flint
