Winter fruits

We got one last crop from the garden, those soft white berries that don't grow anywhere else. I put them in boiling water to take off their thin, bitter skins, then cooked them down to a thick jam. Winter air curled in through the open windows, and I turned my face away from the steam. Afterwards, I scrubbed the pan and the spoon and put them back in their place in the garden shed. I peeled off my gloves and dropped them in the bin. I put the jar at the back of the larder with the others, in case I ever needed it.