This Is The Problem With Forever Friends.

It Was The Magic Hour, The Moment In Time When Every Leaf And Blade Of Grass Seemed To Separate, When Sunlight, Burnished By The Rain And Softened By The Coming Night, Gave The World An Impossibly Beautiful Glow.

What Shall We Drink To?" "how About Family?" Stacy Said, Showing Up Just In Time To Pour A Fourth Shot. "to Those Who Are Here, Those Who Are Gone, And Those Who Are Lost." And She Clicked Glasses With Mom

Sometimes Holding On Was All You Could Do.

I Can Be A Little Ocd When It Comes To My Writing.

Nothing Was Easier To Shatter Than The Fragile Shield Of An Idealist.