Rayah tells me to go get us breakfast and I nod, knowing the store is open. I stand and grab my hoodie, putting the hood over my head while walking out.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
I curl up on the front porch, not wanting to go inside and hoping to be awake when Zoey returned. Little did I know she'd end up running back. I stand and shift and block her entrance, asking what's wrong telepathically.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth. — Kate Chopin, The Awakening