Affectionately nicknamed, fried-egg poppy. Stridently cheerful. Downright optimistic. One bloom is an entire garden. Paper skin -- perfect for a petite poem. Written, of course, in yellow ink.
She grabs the pepper to sprinkle on the dish, the puts it back in the wrong place. Asks about the train schedule. Turns the timer over. A cantankerous figure in the foreground approaches, sliding on the newly mopped floor, barely upright, curses and then hugs the corner of the cabinet.
V-neck sweater. Forbids cartoons before breakfast. Scent of old spice.
Exigent circumstances fumbling on the crabby moor?
She grabs the pepper to sprinkle on the dish, the puts it back in the wrong place.
ReplyDeleteAsks about the train schedule. Turns the timer over. A cantankerous figure in the foreground approaches, sliding on the newly mopped floor, barely upright, curses and then hugs the corner of the cabinet.
V-neck sweater. Forbids cartoons before breakfast. Scent of old spice.
Exigent circumstances fumbling on the crabby moor?
Always continues cooking no matter what.