One of those days, where I’ve woken up ratty, ready to pick a fight, to find something to get upset over.
One where I read between the lines.
One where my mind reading skills are at their best and their worst.
One of those days where a soothing hug just doesn’t soothe.
Where it’s the giggle of a small child that I need.
Or a bright pink flower as I pass your garden.
I found these tomatoes growing up the back corner of my parents new place.
Grown from the compost. Out of rubbish.
Little balls of smiling.
From table scraps.
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