I smile and ball up his hair in my one hand, my sister walking in. She chuckles and takes Renn from us, closing the door behind her and dissapearing into the kitchen.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
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
