Every time I looked at the picture I thought how I should have kissed her, so finally I hid it in the attic & I wonder if it’s still there with us both so young & her waiting to be kissed.
My grandmother kept a box of old photos in her attic & we used to go up there on rainy days & sit on the floor in the dusty light & go through them & she would tell about witches & broken hearts & how we came from royal blood & it was all there … [Read More]