| replying to this post by quewon... |
eleven years old, cradling a snail in clammy hands. turn over the shell to see it's cracked. he dropped his little friend that he found upon dewy morning leaves.
how wonderful the encounter was. place a snail on your palm and watch it crawl. tiny eyes like antennae slowly spinning to look up at you.
just a kid, thin and small, always having to crane his neck up at the adults. pick yourself up, now. there is always a way to fix things.