Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Don't talk to me about forever.


I got Scribbles Sunday. He was abandoned; found the day that winter greeted Edmonton with snow, poking around trash bins. His nose was frost bitten.

Around Thanksgiving, a cousin of mine left his wife and two kids.

Around Christmas, another cousin of mine left her five kids.

I don't want to grow up if it means I'm going to abandon everything I once loved.