this-be-linda

I forget what we were talking about. Probably that angry wench of a librarian, or what lessons we had the next day. But I remember you told me that story about that shark you caught. 'It was ... this big,' and you stretched out your arms as far as they could go. Like a child, it was so simple. I loved moments like these; the brief chat about nothing that took us on that magic carpet ride to places we only dared to dream of. Places where we could be free. Places where we could be us, instead of who we're supposed to be. 'Oh, I'm sorry, how big?' 'Thiiiiiiiiis big,' and you tried to stretch even further. Even further, but you gave up just co