Tag: Whippoorwill

After dinner Susan opted for a postprandial soak. Quiet. Languid. Sybaritic. Tasha curled up beside the bathtub, sighed and fell asleep. A breeze carried the faint smell of pine trees through the open window. A whippoorwill called in the distance. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could live here?” Susan said. “Why couldn’t we?” I…