The skirt smelled faintly of dandelions, a smell that Barbara would always remember as the smell of victory. After years of finding that he'd led the neighborhood children through her precious rhododendrons, she'd devised a trap he couldn't resist. It hurt a little inside, remembering the taunts of "carrot top" as a child, but the soft, magical wool and pom-poms of victory soothed her pain.
That damned Easter bunny would never hide another egg from her again, no sir.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Springtime Chill
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animals,
fashion,
rippingyarns
at
8:05 PM
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HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA
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