bridgett colwell
Stories (2)
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Mud Puddles and Dandelions
When I think of my childhood, I think of toys and games, of laughing and crying, of scrapes and scabs and the adventures that caused them; but most of all, I think of mud puddles and dandelions. I was always an outdoorsy kind of girl. I loved animals and I loved nature. It wasn’t like I was purely a tomboy. I mean, sure it was fun getting dirty and playing pirates or cops and robbers, but I liked dress up and house as well. I loved to dress up in beautiful dresses and then go play in the dirt or catch frogs from the pond. My mom realized quickly to buy my clothes second hand because they were going to be ruined the first day that I wore them.
By bridgett colwell5 years ago in Journal
Perdu Dans La Vie
She wanted milk for the baby; milk, diapers, and a loofah, whatever the hell that was. It is nearly one am and I don’t understand why this couldn’t wait until at least six, but I am happy to get away from the crying for a few minutes; my wife’s, not the baby’s.
By bridgett colwell5 years ago in Fiction
