So, I was visiting the Kitten's mother. It is quite nimble clever old lady of 90 years, small and wizened. Long talked about his youth, about how the war she worked in Texas, as raising children, as with husband raised the stone quarry, and then, already said goodbye, hugged and complained, she say, her son was a bad egg, and not dresses pants in winter. For some reason, I began to tremble all inside, some the greatest intimacy of maternal love, and yet I would think so, too, even if a baby will have grandchildren and if he survive, if he eaten as it should, if he put on warm socks. But he will a little embarrassed me.
You Should Be Able
Stop Hitting On Me
Sun Glasses
Labels: about snow stop vanity look just envy hate cruel laws desire friendship want broke eyes says rough tough divorced years marriage bunch young fools
0 comments:
Post a Comment