you know that beautiful little town?
the one with a river running next to the main square and one or two brick bridges lined with cobblestone paths. there is a sunday market in the summer, with stalls selling fresh farm goods, preserved fruit and candy, pet rabbits, vintage jewelry. pageboy caps and pink ribbons run after pigeons, old ladies share a laugh on the benches by the river. a couple stop at a booth lined with vanilla cupcakes and hummingbird slices, hand-in-hand, contemplating which would better sweeten their day. there is a bookstore with five editions of jane eyre in it and a wooden step-ladder placed at just the right height to get them. in the corner sits a young boy, hoping john keats could teach him a thing or two about love. just down the road an elderly man gently guides his wife home.
you know that town? it’s the one i dream of when God decides i deserve a smile.