Salad Days
The joy of nothing much
The smell of the wind as the seasons change. The shape of clouds drifting across the afternoon sky. The sound of someone you love laughing. The soft foam on top of a cappuccino.
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Salad Days
3 essays
Salad Days
My wish upon a star
‘Please let me become someone who writes every day.’ With my flushed cheeks cupped in both hands, I looked up at the stars and wished, earnestly, for that kind of steadiness to seep into my life.
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