Tuesday, 8 February 2011


Stuttering, stumbling, trembling and mumbling. You smile. The sun is out and the grass is green and birds are twittering and all other cliches of the world are outside your window, which is nice. But it could be pouring rain and the sky could be cracking with thunder and today it would not matter. And you think of hair that curls sweetly at the ends and frameless glasses and teeth nervously biting bottom lips . Every day your head is filled with something new. Shivers. This is a good day.

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