Where the Blackberries Grow

 Where the Blackberries Grow by Tiffany Greenfield www.eleventhhourfiction.wordpresss.com

She remembered the summer of her tenth year. The long days of summer were counted not on a calendar but by the ripeness of the black raspberries and how long her favorite kitten was missing. The heat of the day was not measured on a thermometer but by how the short hairs on the back of her neck, hidden by the mane of long locks, curled in the humidity and her sweat. She relished in the isolation but when she was lost to the day and a bit too far from home she worried the sudden icy chill she felt wasn’t the wind.

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