September 06, 2003

I wish that I could show you how lovely everything is. That I could l let you taste my delicious cookie, or that I could have you feel the hot sticky air of the smokey late summer evenings. I wish you could hear the rythmical clicking of the soft keys, and the way my feet are swolen, and the stickiness of my fingers. I wish, I could show all this to you, but, all I have are words.

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