The suspense is palpable as we turn each page. We sit, we three, on the couch, I in the middle, and on either side a girl, with long, silken, summer-sun-kissed hair. Their skin is the colour of the brown eggs in the grocery store; the kind you pay extra for; even though the insides are the same as the white eggs; but I digress.
Both have eyes the colour of chestnuts and Victoria has a delicate sprinkle of freckles over the bridge of her nose that looks as if an angel flicked a paint brush laden with burnt sienna, as a finishing touch when God was making her.
I pause in my reading of the book, as I often do, to ask a question. "What do you like best--movies or books?"
Without hesitation, with eyes wide and bright, they shout out, "Books!"
"Why books?" I ask.
Tiffany-Amber said, "Because movies are so...predictable."
And Victoria added, "Yes, and books allow you so see so many more pictures in your mind."
Oh, I know. I know exactly what they me…
Both have eyes the colour of chestnuts and Victoria has a delicate sprinkle of freckles over the bridge of her nose that looks as if an angel flicked a paint brush laden with burnt sienna, as a finishing touch when God was making her.
I pause in my reading of the book, as I often do, to ask a question. "What do you like best--movies or books?"
Without hesitation, with eyes wide and bright, they shout out, "Books!"
"Why books?" I ask.
Tiffany-Amber said, "Because movies are so...predictable."
And Victoria added, "Yes, and books allow you so see so many more pictures in your mind."
Oh, I know. I know exactly what they me…