sonora's Letters
Right now, there is snow on the ground and children sled down the big hill in the park,
Shriek out in joyous rapture
From the window:
smells of rosemary, bacon sizzling in the pan, and coffee burnt but loved by all fathers who share in the exhilaration of a snowy day
Today is filled with happiness, shared as commonly as the lone cigarette at a…read more
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