An ornate and gold-edged book, of which inside are secrets even she doesn't know or understand. But tucked all through it are leaflets of paper, as if she'd rather not write in the book its self. Except on the first empty page of the book is written in exquisite, flowing penmanship her full name. ~ Lavender Cecelia Morgan.
Sunday, 04 October 2020
Why do I fall for men who are around so little they might as well be figments of my imagination? Honestly, I think imaginary men would actually be around more then they are!!!
