not merely illustrations.

[lilskatingal]

I never thought I’d be twenty and realize that my nights were melting into scenes that I’d once admired from the pages of children’s books.

On the shelf of some abandoned apothecary’s shop sets a bottle labeled “Summertime,” filled with air of a moonlight night and the wing of a graveyard firefly and dew from the thunderstorm before sunrise.

Comments

[beatniksquirrel]

I hope that "The Little Black Sambo" wasn't one of your favorite childhood books.