I walk to the bathroom and lock the door. She surprsingly is quiet, and I soon find out why. I slide down the door and bury my face in my arms once she hangs up.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth. — Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights
