What it’s like…
The attic rattles with flying squirrels tearing at my boxes; treasures shredded, thrown, used as urinals while they bounce against the walls. Why wasn’t I a better child…a better wife., mother, person, lover,… Continue reading
The attic rattles with flying squirrels tearing at my boxes; treasures shredded, thrown, used as urinals while they bounce against the walls. Why wasn’t I a better child…a better wife., mother, person, lover,… Continue reading