A dense and syrupy caramel colored bookstore cafe. Minds consorting with the ages, commiserating the ironies and concerns of daily life. (And over the din) the tender pink vision of a babe. The squeak-squok-squeak-squok of her lilac sandals as she navigates her powder blue ballon through the dense brush of flipflops and granite colored tabletops
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gotta be someone with a degree in english to write with colorful words. if i had been in your place, i would've have made that connection from squeaky boots to naked babies to life. you're so insightful, k. that's what i love about reading your journal entries. keep it coming.
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