Closer it comes, and closer still. Hidden between Valentines and the madness of March. There is a smile of impatience growing stronger among the contentment of routine. She is ready. And ready or not, closer it comes…

Like fields of grey that have flourished overnight, my face has given in to time and hope. The horizon that was my hairline has been defeated and left nothing but the shine of reflected sun to light the shadows of ever growing furrows. I feel the weight of responsibility growing heavier upon my slight shoulders.

There is love in this home. It is warm and endearing. It is crazy. The tension makes you scream. The anticipation makes you sweat. There is love in this home, and it is ready to come out.

Good. Hurry.

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