“Perhaps it was his room-shaking laugh or that twinkly smile which shone to her like a sun through the snow…”
“…That firecracker of a child came to me in the time of red pistachio leaves. She loved reaching this part of the book…”
"It is said that whence a person sees a painting of a past life they are driven to madness soonafter. Was that it perhaps?"
Nothing else had such a way of making the child lose herself... quite like a sunset.
Sometimes its a Special Train. A Phantom of a Train. It belongs to my Otherworldly friends and I. And we're long gone.
