It was shady in the raspberry room. Leaves rustled all around her. The air had a good, plant kind of smell. The tall brown fence made one wall of the room. The raspberry leaves made the ceiling. Patches of blue sky showed through. The floor was made of old leaves and squished weeds. The fence made a good chair back, too. Abby sat down. She could hear the swing squeaking back and forth. Would Laura like the purple flowers? Somewhere, a robin was chirping. A dog started barking. It was Sparky, in the yard next door. Abby knew the dog's name. Sometimes the neighbors talked to him. "Here, Sparky " she called. Then she laughed. There was a knothole in the fence. A sniffing black nose poked through the hole Abby petted Sparky's cold wet nose. She let him sniff the purple flowers. Sparky sneezed. A door banged in the house next door. "Hey, Sparky," someone said. In behind the raspberry bushes is a special place, a place Abby doesn't trust to just anyone. Then she looks through a knothole in the fence and right into a blue, blue eye. A toy tractor appears on her side of the fence and she pokes her little brother's stuffed blue monkey into the hole. The next morning she finds it with its tail ripped off. Who does the blue eye belong to? The raspberry patch in her own backyard inspired Alison Lohans to write The Raspberry Room. Alison lives in Regina, Saskatchewan, where she works full time as a writer.