I was just out walking on the campus near dusk when from out behind a wall a teacher's kid shoots out on a bicycle. This little girl with hypnotic grey eyes wearing an obnoxious fluffy pink dress flowing in the wind riding her proportionally mini cherry red bicycle as fast as physics will allow the kiddie huffy to go brings a smile to my face. An 'insta'-smiile. Not thinking about what i've seen, just smiling and being in the moment.
I'm coming up on an anniversary of sorts. Though, it's true the number of dates in the year worth remembering have gone from 0-60 in a couple years since meeting zahra. Worth remembering indeed. This last year has been filled with more moments than any before. Good. Bad. Incredible. And several more words that fail to describe any of these moments.
Getting to my point...well i guess i don't have one, not totally neccesary i suppose. I read something today that, sadly, made me feel good about my writing. "Inspiration doesn't automatically give birth to technique."
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