![]() ![]() Families who’d become enemies over fence lines and tree roots suddenly burst into each other’s kitchens, trading long-secret recipes for tomato sauce or spice cookies.Īnother year, it was icicles that tasted like rose candies. One year, the glimmer stirred the air between neighbors who hated each other. Both for the wavering light that hovered above the water, and because it seemed like the right word for the flicker of magic that came with it. That was what they called the strangeness that settled onto our town for a week each October, a glimmer. ![]() And probably, that was true.īut growing up in Briar Meadow meant I measured mine by the glimmer that appeared over the reservoir every year. My mother told me once that being an Oliva meant measuring our lives in lengths of red thread. ![]()
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