Red Streak On Baby's Face, Causes

Tales From Tales From

As I like to tell me how

like to tell, tell me in, telling a walk, he says.
And I like how I like it, seeing things to tell, the ones that are first, right, right here, right now, because who knows in a minute if this light will be gone or will it still is this, if this We will walk again and again that person and that and that and the other in memory and, because who knows in a minute if the memory is still just that or it will be different, such as frozen inside the body, there are memories that can fade as the fabric of a dress held too, and if the sun fade, fade, fade, and yet, in the end are nothing, almost nothing, and then we must continually raccontarseli memories.
And as I like to tell the body that perfumes the body will tell me, so they evaporate less because the scents they leave and if not then tell them there are no more and you have to force them to tell you, for example, the scent that the folds of the elbows, the grooves, when you're young.
As I like to tell!
let me look at it all again just to tell it right, just, just, decent, because children and young people are too busy looking inward, growing, busy, busy in the growth, and adults in the fight to stay standing , dodging not know how many potholes, rusty nails, nettles and brambles, snakes hanging, snakes that bite, so only the old enjoy the show outside and they know to tell. I wonder if, later, comes the moment that does not lose more time to tell, just enough for him again, and again, and again, to see him.
However now I like it and tell you.
That is all a fairy tale, believe me, this light that shows up and then just turns and then hides in the evening takes a sudden and sometimes you even have their own laws and no thought of turning on the light and then sleep, which is pretty tired, whatever you did during the day, fatigue is justice and slides right into the pillow and the next day the light comes back and turns still in its different ways, depending on season, the months, from the place of the world where you are, but persists in some places, you know, after a few months. And incredibly
when you wake up, you find yourself breathing. You are
breath, even if they still do not know, because now you are all hungry, I do not know, do not you notice, you're breathing. Breath that takes you along the very long day and turns as the light.
But the morning always comes back. And I'll tell you!