Here, My Dear

Friday, November 9, 2007

The smell of a child waking up from a good night’s sleep, just like fresh rolls from the oven, with the rosy cheeks and the shiny eyes, and all I want to do is to quickly run to get a plastic bag so I can put the air in it, shut it tight, and carry it around with me.
You know, in case of emergency.

posted by She at 12:49 am  

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