His mother’s words faded to myth, concocted by a gentle soul to delight the imagination of a boy.Until one day, they were no longer a myth. One day, he would wish he had never heard them at all because they spelled his happiness–and his eternal sorrow.

His mother’s words faded to myth, concocted by a gentle soul to delight the imagination of a boy.Until one day, they were no longer a myth. One day, he would wish he had never heard them at all because they spelled his happiness–and his eternal sorrow.

– Natalia Marx –

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