Vile Two.
It's the smell of dad, security, and being carefree and young. You in your black and white pinstriped suit on our way to church. Clean and freshly shaved.
Those were my favorite days of the week, Sundays. It was familiar and comfortable to me, church felt like family. When you held me close I was making memories, and storing them in the treasure chest of my heart.
In the long care rides too and from, my seat was always behind yours. I would fall asleep to your fresh smell and awake to your warm arms holding me.
Those were my favorite days of the week, Sundays. It was familiar and comfortable to me, church felt like family. When you held me close I was making memories, and storing them in the treasure chest of my heart.
In the long care rides too and from, my seat was always behind yours. I would fall asleep to your fresh smell and awake to your warm arms holding me.
Nice post. i wonder what it would look like using poetic devices and in poetic form. In prose I would love to have more detail.
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