I miss the summer, when he’d take me to the park sometimes and we’d find somewhere grassy and still and quiet. I miss closing my eyes and smelling just how green the grass was, being teased about my dirty feet. I miss how -when at the slightest suggestion that someone was coming I would bolt up and tug my skirt down – he told me that even if I was a little bit of a scaredy-cat, I was still a little floozy.
