
Light a Candle
Nothing much happens: bedtime stories to help you sleep
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A Memoir of a Shared Moment
I was handed a glass of my own and savored that last bite of the rugla, the cinnamon e ground walnut filling melting in my mouth. Then i was showed out of the way as plates were carried through to the dining room. I moved into a corner by the front door, just standing with my glass in my hand, watching the activity. One of my young cousins came to stand t me, leaning her shoulder against my side, and i slipped my arm around her. She was a quiet kid, probably a little overwhelmed by the noise. Andthough i wondered how school going, i didn't ask her just now, i was usually the person she went to when she needed
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