| | 07/08/2023 14:19
Sur le blog Bleu Avenue
Fall Is Never Far The older I get, the quicker the days pass. Summer was a wild endless dream when I was younger, now I blink and it's already autumn again. All the memories are there, they come flooding back with the first cool morning and the first smell of wild rose verbena take me back down those wooded trails from the bus stop up the hill to our farm. I remember those days as bitter sweet. The taste of freedom faded a little more with each passing day and we, my brother and I, only found ourselves remembering again as we stepped off the bus. School was all equations and diagrams, nothing tangible, nothing real, but once those orange bus doors creaked opened, we...
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