making it difficult to walk in such frail shoes. but how i love them.
i discovered an old book which is beautiful in its own fictional way,
so old with butter coloured pages. the smell of it makes me smile. burnt edges, cream spine, pinched glue~
books, like people, develop a smell of their own too. it's a comforting thought, really.
fell asleep past 7.30 and woke up at half past midnight, this was yesterday.
i was day-clothed and everything, right on top of the horses surrounded by bunnies, carrying me through my dreams but like usual,
they've been forgotten. i ought to write them down, though i am wicked. when i awoke, i was in my frail shoes, seahorse, and even my feather.
needless to say, we all survived.
