Posts
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The Bottom of a Wishing Well
A penny from a young girl with pigtails and a toothy grin, a dime from a poet in a baseball cap, and a quarter from an elderly lady on her morning stroll.
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Cloud of Dreams
When I was little, clouds were large feather beds of fluff and softness that you could lay and sleep on. Clouds were a kingdom of spireling, swirling towers of white. Only to be reached in dreams.