Chance's dad take he our of my arms and heads back to his room for the night. His mother heads out son after, leaving just Chance and me. I smile at him and face him.
Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart -Winnie the Pooh
Sleep starts to peck at me as the night goes on. I look at his watch and find it is very late. I frown. "I am really tired, but I do not want this to end." I say.
Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart -Winnie the Pooh
I nod and stand as well. "Yes it has." I say. "A great one though." I say, slipping my hand into his. He leads me to his room and I follow closely behind.
Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart -Winnie the Pooh
The bigger the issue, the smaller you write. Remember that. You don’t write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid’s burnt socks lying on the road. You pick the smallest manageable part of the big thing, and you work off the resonance. — Richard Price