Hiding so long in the pantry closet that my knees are chapped red. Pins and crawling needles through knuckles. This is the best hiding place, next only to the large oak with a gnarled hollow in it's belly. Here is where my mother keeps her carefully pressed dresses and a hatbox full of her favourite nail polish. From between the slats you can see
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Your posts are like frosty breath on a summer's day.
*hugs*
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brian
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