We started the year with a two year old’s toast. I been asking for less but they just do the most. She’s got a penchant for romance instead of the truth. One can’t help but forgive the mistakes caused by youth. Does he take all those ghosts where ever he goes? If we’re storytelling, you’re writing the prose. The kid sings himself softly awake in his crib. We need similar wonder in order to live.

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