A little hand rests on a Dads back on the tram. I looked down at my own hands and remembered they also used to be that small, and my parents used to marvel at those small hands, how small they could be. And now they’re here, riding on this tram with the rest of my body, holding each other for comfort. I noticed how I painted my fingernails myself, and how that made me happy. And how I’m still that little girl with the little hands. She’s somewhere inside me, guiding the way.
⋘ Azure Rouet ⋙
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