I glance around, horrible memories of my mother and father coming back to me...reminding me of how they died. I swallow, remembering that I have to take care of myself, my sister not in my life anymore.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
The grand in the hotel rings with broken tunes; the guests frown; the concierge winces. But the blue-hatted boy is happy and braver than they. — TheMythMaster