Short stories and essays by Faith Andrews Bedford

Sweet Dreams

The queen was slim and elegant as she moved slowly among her attendants. I could not take my eyes off her. But Miss Henderson told us our time at the Nature Center was over; the fifth graders had to return to school. I took one last look at the little beehive with its glass walls …

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The Dress-Up Box

I am the tailored type, most comfortable in well-worn denim or comfortable tweeds. My sister, Ellen, has been trying to update my look for years with little success. A little while ago, when she became engaged, I told her I had nothing to wear to an evening wedding. Today she’s taking me shopping. At our …

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Sister Dresses

As my sister’s car disappears over the top of the hill, her faint toot in farewell tells me she has turned onto the main road. The dust settles on our lane as I look to the pile of boxes she just left behind. When Mother died last year, Dad gave up the summer house. “Come …

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