-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
Designed with WordPress
by Jennifer Frost
Meg looked up from her keyboard when the outer door opened and a smart young woman entered.
by Jennifer Frost
I close all the windows. The wind is picking up & the dust will blow in. In the streaming sunshine, a man walks alone on the dirt road.
by Jennifer Frost
Before the wildfire some years back, Grandpa George’s summer place was an ageing cabin, a relic from a time when the mountain resort was a novelty to city dwellers, a picturesque place to get away an hour’s drive from downtown.
Jennifer Frost Writes