how much of life becomes a fairy-tale of truth?

I wonder, as we go through the years, how much of life becomes a fairy-tale of truth? In my early 40s now, I’ve noticed stories from long ago streaming into my consciousness at an amazing rate of speed, knitting the tapestry of my life-so-far in ways I couldn’t have previously imagined.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


eight − 6 =

Leave a Reply