of the night..."
Instead I making antipasto, believe and an attempt at a willful amnesia. Three more tomatoes came into their blush today. My herbs are all wild and green and most days I think that I make much happiness out of little: a dinner at The Blue Danube, the memory of large laughter and colored lights, the hope that things do not shadow us for nothing, for years and years and years, for nothing.
I am working on a new story, trying to edit my poetry collection and dreaming The Pumpkin Show.
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