My mom slaps his hand away and I swallow, reaching for him. She drives off before we an touch and I break out crying again, burying my head in my arms.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
Edna began to feel like one who awakens gradually out of a dream, a delicious, grotesque, impossible dream, to feel again the realities pressing into her soul. — Kate Chopin, The Awakening
