Roses

I have just finished reading The Traveller by Ron McLarty, which blog-according i started on the 9th Feb. The last page was as excellent as the first and it won't spoil the plot if i quote a little.

"I got into the front with Cubby, and Mariesat in back between Bobby and Billy. Right before he fired up our Ford, my old man sniffed and looked at me.

'What's that smell, Jono?'

'What?'

'That smell. What is it?'

I caught my Marie D'Agostino's exquisite eyes in the rearview mirror, and she smiled the smile i can still savour decades after the fact. She looked serious for a second, then smiled again.

'Roses, Pop,' I said, my eyes still on her.'That smell is roses.'

You might have to go back to Feb 9th on this blog to see why that made me cry.

I read the last chapter to my daughter and cried again, and i shall cry tonight when i read it to Krissie.