Story #315

The flowers blooming around Betty’s cottage reminded her of the field of cornflowers she used to live in. Betty sighed. She had loved that field, but eventually old age caught up with her and she could no longer keep up with the housework. In the end it became so over grown, she was forced to sell it. Betty turned around and headed back up the gravel path towards the house. Pushing open the door, she sighed again. Those were the days.

Freya, Auckland