...this is what you'd find first thing in the morning.
These words filled my head this morning as I showered. Someday they may grow up to be six stanza poems, the first line of that short story where things almost seem as if they might get back to normal by the end, or a line or two in a novel where the hero realizes that he hasn't the power to fix everything around him and simply gives up. Who knows? Their journey has yet to begin. I'm pasting their baby pictures here, and we'll have to wait to see how they mature, which ones pull on purple hats and develop wide toothless grins and which ones hide from the camera.
comfort softens the morning
the grace of accepting
curb your wanderlust
beyond this pale horizon of snow
She slept through the blizzard again.
inconsolable
Alfred was afraid his mother would send him more books and then he'd have to read them all.
Hummm...only time will tell if this has been a productive morning or not. But I believe somewhere within these lines there's something I'll be working on that shall make me sigh by midnight.
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