Quote:
Originally Posted by atisketatasket
I'm having a curl up in a fetal position under a blanket kind of night. Unfortunately I only have two blankets and one smallish cat.
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I could sneak you a few stuffed animals and a couple pillows out of the eight year old's bed if you like. She won't miss 'em. She chucks 'em on the floor anyway 
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'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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