Once nice thing about having a younger sibling is that I can tug at him, toy with him, dress him up and take pictures. "Look over to the right. No, my right. Make me smile."
I don't have to tell him to make the perfect faces.
"No, look coy." Snap crackle pop. Here I sit, tea cup in hand, back from Golden Hill; I may possibly go back Sunday evening for all of its loveliness. Until then, I'll be having dreams of ghosts and fish, and love and love and love...
Scarce words, scarred words, things I do not say... pink clouds-clots anishing. I live in the thin line between night and day.
Oh, also I started summer classes earlier this week. Wheee x 450. Me: