by ~Phantasos~ » Thu Mar 06, 2014 4:29 pm
Chance watched him go sadly then warned some homemade chicken soup she had cooked the day before. She set a bowl of it on a tray along with water,a spoon and napkin,and crackers. Carefully she lifted the tray by the handles on the side and carried it to his room.
"And dreams in their development have breath,and tears,and tortures,and the touch of joy; they leave a weight upon our waking thoughts,they take a weight from off our waking toils,they do divide our being."