The butter melts out of habit/the toast isn't even warm

by Amy Turn Sharp


So I booked us a ballroom dancing class for Tuesday night. I see us floating across parquet floors in chiffon and tails. I really see us busting through the doors buzzed on two large pints from the local and bundled up and laughing. It will be fun. It is something I have always wanted to do and perhaps if I reach very far down into my scary little place I will also make 2009 the year I buy an old acoustic guitar and learn to play. Just a little. Just like sewing. Just enough to make me dangerous.

I love this young girl. I love her tude. She has it right?

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