She was born with a puff of orange hair and wild eyes. I knew she would be someone magical, someone who forged her own path through life. “Poppy. Her name is Poppy” I said to the nurses as they cleaned her off.
Her cries were deep-rooted; they came from the depths of her, and they came often. I was able, always, to soothe her, to meet each need as
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Comments 15
Though just to make sure I don't resemble your story, I might change the girl's name... I just found that hilarious.
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And you smell delicious!
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