* Image photoshopped to make me look as bad as possible.
Hmm. Up before the chickens, sleepy, staring at the computer…
Early morning traffic…
Standing outside a strange house, obsessively checking the time…
Mother with her arms full of a stranger’s clothes… it can only mean one thing -Estate Sale, BABY!
Or, we’re thieves. With a fetish for the smell of moth balls. Whichever.
I love the smell of old clothes.
M on the Mountain