I adore this itty-bitty lacy dress... recently discovered in an old steamer trunk, sitting useless in my garage as a mere shelf for Diet Pepsi, the best part is knowing that it was my mom's when she was a little girl.
A little storytelling... A modicum of silence swallowed the room as dusty shards of sunlight patterned the multicolored carpet. Decorated with an army of garish jewelry, everything jingles, almost intentionally, as the woman perched behind the large candy counter brushes invisible lint from her blouse. Her silvery hair is the color of cotton candy. She offers a genuine smile before shifting her gaze downcast towards her slender hands. Briefly, she examines their delicate surface that is creviced by time and wiser than yesterday. At four quarters per ride, it was a small price for six minutes of uncontaminated childhood reminiscence to sweep the memory warehouse. And while we kept the company of an epoch 1920’s carousel, 60 handcrafted horses, and funky reindeer, we went round and round, faster and faster… letting it take us to those secret places we almost forgot existed. --Bella H. p.s. In lieu of those who have so thoughtfully given me awards and spotlight features... YOU'RE AM
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Fräulein Fatal
Fräulein Fatal
Fräulein Fatal