tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17704333.post-59958087563300772712008-06-27T23:59:00.003-04:002008-06-28T00:38:06.617-04:002008-06-28T00:38:06.617-04:00

The color of finger tips was quite pink when she reached out to grab the last brick in the little pig's fallen house. The wolf she whispered to herself is not deterred by mortar. Nor defeated by logic. I don't remember who I had been. Before the moon fell from the sky and the whole of the earth became silent. I can't recall if there was, infact, a life before this. Or whether I would want it

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