I could still smell the rain in the air. The feeling of the cool weather swiping by soothing. It was peaceful although the storm last night had not been. It had been loud and I didn’t get much sleep. But, here I was relaxing on the front porch of my old farm house. The wood was old, and needed to be repaired. I think even the house was starting to slouch. Lived here most of life, and rainstorms were constant now. I no longer owned any animals except chickens. The winters were harsh to me and so were the people. I am only ninety-three years old, and my life is full of wonder. It just so happens that I live in the middle of nowhere. I was only sitting here thinking about how things have changed so drastically compared to my younger years.I stood there in front of the mirror looking at how I looked. Of course my self esteem wasn’t that high. Whose was? I had long bleach blonde hair that hung down by my hips. My curls had a mind of their own, weaving in all kinds of different directions. It was like a miles long traffic jam going in a series of spirals. My hair parted in the middle, not like everyone else. I didn’t have perfect bangs, I hadn’t cared for them. A pale pink blush brushed across the skin of my flawless face. My emerald eyes were big like an owl’s in the night. I would always get compliments for them. My eyelashes, naturally dark brought their color out even more beautifully. My lips were full, and puckered in a soft pout. I wore a flower patterned tank top of reds and blues with real denim shorts that were just a little over sized.
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By Rashell Flescher
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