There is no light at the end of the tunnel for us. We are who we are.
Another tug and a yank at my chestnut curls and she snarls at me, __ou are so much like her.__his is something my mother often says and never explains. Though it is a great mystery to me it is also a blessing, for she always hurries from the room after saying it.
The BlueStocking Girl
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Another tug and a yank at my chestnut curls and she snarls at me, __ou are so much like her.__his is something my mother often says and never explains. Though it is a great mystery to me it is also a blessing, for she always hurries from the room after saying it.
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