Cheese
Standing at the picket fence, the cameraman said cheese; to this, I wondered what kind it could be. I held my doll close to my side and ran my other hand along the wood. The leafless branches hung down like abstract cobwebs, flitting with the breeze. I stepped back to my house, leaving soft prints in the dirt.
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i wonder what the news was all about.
thoughts awaken and ponder the words. you always make me think. that’s good.
I love these…I almost want to add a paragraph…just 50 words would do it I think. 🙂
b
http://torristravels.blogspot.com/2009/09/sunday-scribblingsthe-phone-call.html
hmmmm. . .
Gives me an image of a child living in the moment.