I get home from work. Seeking the keys in the pocket of the usual brown bag, which I did not use a few weeks.
keys fit in the middle of a pile of hairpins.
I wonder where they come from, so large that even the use, I do.
a split second and I remember.
are hairpins that I pulled out one by one from the bulk of my unmade and lacquered hair before going to sleep, almost to the dawn of August 22.
It took me forever to get them all out. It 'been a long treasure hunt. Did not think I have a lot of hair and that could be hidden in many hairpins. It 'been almost that long to be able to live off the final parade.
For what it's taken a little more than only because I could not do it alone. So I was embalmed on the bed, cooked by fatigue, with the bodice loose after a night of celebration, until the purple prince did not come to save me. Prince
violet which, prior to my wedding dress, was working to clear the room by millemila glasses half full of water surrounding our bed wedding night - nicely prepared and insistently (especially) wanted their dear mothers.
Millemila shorts that trawling in hand, I was able to dribble while athletically to be able to lay on the mattress and see the final demise of the toes.
Too bad that the bed was full of grain. Full. Up down everywhere. Dear friends
rascals. Both rogues that I almost had a heart attack when - bladder screaming pity - I opened the bathroom door and drowned in the midst of hundreds of balloons that blocked the way to the toilet, wisely incellofanato for the occasion.
course, as we left Cagliari on a brand new and decorated with bows Ross, direct to our cottage in the country, we should not imagine any way that vex so before closing his eyes in sleep. But looking back
vex a hundred times.
rifesteggerei And a thousand times.
some reason the idea is so afraid of getting married.
Ah yes, no doubt because the post is forever, because it is a theoretical link indissoluble and bla bla bla.
But you want to put what you have fun that day?
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