Though I'm not sure, I thought I saw women dressed in black, with her head and face covered by a black veil, duck behind a tree as we approached the road and parked car. Hiding so we wouldn't see her. But I caught a glimpse, enough to reveal the rope of lustrous pearls she wore. Pearls that were there for a thin white hand to lift and nervously, out of long habit, twist and untwist into a knot. Only one women I knew did that--and she was the perfect one to wear black, and should run to hide!Forever hide! Color all her days black! Every last one!

We will not open healed wounds!""My wounds are not healed!" I stated just as firmly. "They will never be healed until justice is done!

When the petals of the heart unfold fragrance spreads across the valley.

Little girls get hurt when they play grown-up games.

Then the wind came in with Bart and blew the vase of roses from the table. I stood and stared down at the crystal pieces and the petals scattered about. Why was the wind always trying to tell me something? Something I didn't want to hear!

Maybe that was what millions could do-- nail a satisfied smirk to one's face.