inspiration + perspiration = invention :: T. Edison ::
Sometimes, when everyone gathered by the radio, Agnes dawdled at the lonely old Broadwood and plucked the keys for herself alone. Then, as the sun’s afternoon haze bent a prism across the ivories, she couldn’t stop herself from humming a tune forever tied to her fondest memories.
At least he was somewhere way up high: a happy pilot flying beyond the rainbow she could only glimpse in reflections of the past.
(Anonymous)
2022-01-28 08:29 pm
Any, any, jar of rainbows