Heather
9
Heather looked out her bedroom window. Burnt umber and red leaves shivered in the autumn breeze. The neighbor’s house was visible through the pines, vine maples, and the one oak tree clustered between their properties. She leaned her forehead on the windowpane. It was cold. She touched the tip of her nose to the window’s smoothness and breathed a fog onto the glass. She went in search of a warmer robe; it was time to switch to terry cloth. The mild ache from her fall two weeks before had sunk deep into the ankle, past sinew and tendon and bone. It distracted her, making her restless and uneasy.
On her dresser lay the travel brochure for Scotland. She’d read through the visitor’s website and felt strangely excited on some days about the prospect of going, but she knew that in o
