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Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Mornings. The bad news of yesterday sighs. It doesn't stand a chance today. Not after the tears have dried up. Silence has settled and lays over the floor. You almost forgot. You tip toe barefoot to the bathroom, where the bright light blinds your sleepy eyes.

Soon, the sun cuts through the window. Blades of rays, spreading butter on toast. White toast, white girl. Happy, brave girl.

For you Sarah :) ....are you reading?

1 comment:

  1. Hope you've not stopped writing. This reader thinks you really have a gift

    ReplyDelete