Tuesday, March 20, 2007
At home
I made French onion soup. And the sun was knocking on the window. And I let the sun in. And there was the smell of onion on my fingers. Oh and the birds. They were playing. And we had papaya with lime for dessert. And grandmother told us about eating mangos on a balcony in Alexandria as a child. I had that onion smell on my red soft fingertips.
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