Old fashioned street lamps made of the black lacquered rod iron was mounted on either side of the benches. It was pure serenity and all of Clarkston’s residence knew of its magical powers.
Many a troubled soul, angered or dejected lover, overburdened mother or unfulfilled father strolled through this magical garden in the hopes of distracting from their internal pain and in search of peace.
Candace was no exception. Her stroll was just in the form of a visual perusal, but the effect was the same. Snapping out of the trance she now found herself in, Candice pushed through to reality and reached for the phone. Pushing autodial she calls Jose in his car.
Progress With Purpose!
11 years ago
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