Thursday, September 25

WAR ZONE

Last night I shared hot chocolate and a strawberry dessert with my cousin, a sixteen year old knock-out who is still unsure about what to do with her life. She has gone through an awful summer, spending one week at the hospital for surgery and two days at intensive care.
Now that we know our genetic make-up is the cause, we are more connected to eachother than we were before. We talked about her brother who is currently in Afghanistan, where he works at the military hospital. Despite living in a war zone, he has managed to fall in love. Then she showed me her black scooter, which she wanted to be pink.