It is a rainy morning in October. The chill hangs like old jewelry on the sopping trees. I love these days. It's the kind you want to spend amid the covers, warm and content as the surrounding world keeps spinning, wet and troubled and wonderful all at once. I could make a cocoon of books and warm drinks atop a palace of pillows. The world
(
Read more... )
Comments 3
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment