Small Forgotten Countries

My camisole stained from gathering tomatoes in the crisp sunshine. The citrus aroma of home made bubble solution and squeals of joy as my small boy blows bubbles with his Gramma. The swing of cotton pajamas around my ankles, and my bare feet grubby and cool in the grass. Red polish chipped away to reveal maps of small, forgotten countries on my toes.

28 responses to “Small Forgotten Countries

  1. bare feet are the best

  2. and now im whistling that “its a jolly holiday” song…damn yer side bar

  3. I am in love with that.

    In. Love.

  4. And again?

    As in the story of the penny placed over your heart?

    You have stopped at just the right place.

    Wow.

  5. Wow…just wow.
    Each of my senses are awoken by this piece.
    I just love it.

  6. what is wrong with me?
    why have i not been hanging out here?
    you are a beautiful, gifted writer.

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