The Tattoo of Spring.
Her fingers are coarse from the dry winter air. She rubs them together absentmindedly; running the careful grooves of one finger whirl against another. She spreads her arms out wide to her side—her thin,...
Her fingers are coarse from the dry winter air. She rubs them together absentmindedly; running the careful grooves of one finger whirl against another. She spreads her arms out wide to her side—her thin,...
“My recipe for life is not being afraid of myself, afraid of what I think or of my opinions.” ~ Eartha Kitt I just got off the phone with my sister. She witnessed a...