Dusted and dug through my dresser top and unearthed great treasures, from gold crucifix [slender, engraved, flat, no Jesus on it] my grandma gave me to pretty lipsticks in mauves and pinks. Good night.
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An ongoing quest for the meaning of life. Does true happiness exist in a Tory Burch turquoise-trimmed sheath, a MarieBelle Dark Chocolate Croquette bar, a rose garden, a rocky Maine beach, a daughter's eyes, an inky star-sprinkled sky, hours of computer keystrokes that tell a story--or all of the above?
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