Taylor
I'm weeding the front flower beds when a text alert rings from my phone in my back pocket. My gloved hands are much too dirty to read it. I continue to rake the mulch and pull pesky weeds by the root. I wipe sweat from my brow with the sleeve of my T-shirt. Just a couple more feet of flower bed left before I can return to the cool air-conditioning inside.
With the last weed in hand, my cell alerts I have another text. I gather the bag of weeds, remove my gloves, and enter the garage. The bag of weeds I place in the garbage can and the gloves I return to the shelf. In the kitchen, I wash my hands and forearms and dry them before extracting my phone from my back pocket.
Kennedy: Well?
Kennedy: Aunt Flo?
Kennedy: Where are you? Period start?
Seriously? What happened to no added p
