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scribble scrabble
November 1, 2013
It almost feels nostalgic , sitting under that great Navy blue abyss, when the stars replace the wisping clouds that play tag with the summer sun all day long. That little chill that dazzles it's way up and down your bumpy arms. That little tickle given off by misty blades of grass. Orange and gold embers flicker away from the sweet and dry smell of a cigarette. Thinking back, taking a pause to wonder when it all started. It feels like it's been there all along and more than anything else, you don't want it to go away. It's warm.
© Photo by Krystina B., Milford, CT
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