January 17, 2018

My dog’s fur is a shiny penny, glistening like a diamond, warmer than a hot oven spitting out a golden brown loaf. My sister’s hair, rougher than rock hard radium, lacking any lovely luster. My mom’s hair, smooth and silky, a comfortable blanket flowing forth.

Unlike the others, my Dad’s hair. White, brighter than a blinding blizzard, flowing like a raging river, spewing away all it’ water after a flood. A beacon in burgeoning, bustling crowds of belligerent buggers, and within that beacon, is the brightness of my future, flowing forth from who I model

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