scrawls
still cheaper than therapy*


7.9.10
The Dream in a relative greenspace, a fine bedtime story for my princess, with the painted fairies and the giggling and the Dramatic Dashing About. We may go back again. She doesn't get the jokes, i hope, not yet, but cheers when i do. He gave back the flowers for the premiere - i tried to get her to choose roses, i wanted the yellow ones, but she had none of it, so now they sit on my table. If i had given them to Puck then i wouldn't have to look at them now and think of him in his tailored suit. But poor Hermia, spurned for being stumpy, and i laugh and laugh until my sides ache - don't tell me how it ends, bitch, i know how it ends, and in any case in the end i wouldn't have it any other way.

Labels:

scrawled @ 10:05






Creative Commons License
Content copyright protected by Copyscape website plagiarism search
powered by Blogger