I’m in Starbucks crying, the happiness I promised myself nowhere to be found.
While huddled in a corner wrapped in layers of wool, wondering if spring will ever come again, a baby in the tiniest red hoodie, toddles over to hand me a napkin.
He looks at me like an angel on duty, eyes big and round.
When I look to his mom, she shrugs and says, “I had nothing to do with it. He’s very sensitive, and has been, even when I carried him. He never kicked, came into being easily, like he did it all before. His dad calls him, our little, old soul.”
All this time he’s standing by me, eyes big and round, waiting for me to trade my tears for hope, or at the very least, a smile.
I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves.
My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.