THE GIRL IN THE GARDEN

The day of the explosion was one of the last frosty mornings of

spring. Alice sat with her forehead leaning against the window,

watching the scenery as it rocketed past. The new red branches of the

shrubs that lined the road were encrusted with delicate layers of ice,

which gave them the appearance of fiery gems in the glint of morning

sunlight- a blaze of winter Iames that roused the wrong kind of

memories inside her.