For me, it was fifteen minutes. To her, it was the whole day. She talked of snowbugs, made-up insects with a long stinger, three legs, five eyes, and two wings. She drew a picture of one. “Her name is Folly,” she explained, “and she lives alone in a hollow oak tree.” There were other snowbugs, but not nearby. Folly liked her solitude and was not lonely. Plum walked around the living room, hands moving, eyes lit up, explaining the intricate details of this creature. What...Continue Reading "The Bigness of Small Moments"
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