The Stories We Share
The book was the same every time and she never once sounded bored.
The book was the same every time and she never once sounded bored.
You did not rescue him. He picked you and moved in.
The paper lasted four seconds. He was in all of it.
One recipe, two pairs of hands, twenty years apart.
For the two of them, exactly where they want to be.
Last December there were two of you. This December there are three.
For her, because home stopped being a place a while ago.
For the argument about the star that you let him win every year.
For the dad who says he does not need anything, every single year.
Christmas grew by one, and it will never be this small again.
Showing 1–8 of 10 gifts