Anyone who can claim to “know me” knows I have a weird obsession with rewatching movies- In particular the Pixar classic, Ratatouille.
The moonlight cut through the thin window panes and lit the piece of paper on the small wooden desk. A pencil moved and began to form words.
(ooh, have you heard my theory on pink and fluffy dinosaurs? eh, another story for another time. . .)
Y’ALL, IT SNOWED. Honest to goodness fluffy white flakes of happiness.
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops at all.Emily Dickinson
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