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Come out and play.
"so can we go out to play?"
Said the child with the robust, yet dusty brown cheeks. He was adopted two days, in advanced by the dark skinned woman herself. who was pretty, short and fat all over. She, who was busy writing away, gazing steadily at the noon tide weather on the beach where they lived, in the beach house they lived in paid for by the government and partially by her dreams of becoming a freelance writer.
She made alot more than you think.
"Part time maid. part time receptionist. That should cover tomorrow's grocery bills."
She said with pride. The type of pride that states 'I've never struggled a day in my life rich spoiled brat' pride.
Plus, She was happy cooking and caring for the Calcutta born and Floridian accepted child, it was just a matter of being independent and doing what the doctors ordered so she could go on for the rest of her life if she so wished to, caring for him, and care for herself, not just financially, but medically speaking as well.
"We'll go out to play now. I wont bore you with mom's work any longer. I promise." She said with a kind ease and an even smoother tan lined. coastal joy.
Nicole Mayfair was a writer, a copywriter, a survey expert, and a mother of two. She has graduated from numerous schools, but had no job. She adopted little 7 year old Kumlali out of the Christian kindness you only read about, though being Mormon never stopped her from practicing mindfulness, and her daily yoga expertise.
we are going to build a sandcastle. let's have some fun. she said while the child did cartwheels along the shorelines of Jacksonville Beach, just enough to where his hands and feet brushed the water of the distilled seashore.
She knew how to have fun, She just didn't have a man in her life... until a stranger appears out of nowhere.
© Seraph Princess
Said the child with the robust, yet dusty brown cheeks. He was adopted two days, in advanced by the dark skinned woman herself. who was pretty, short and fat all over. She, who was busy writing away, gazing steadily at the noon tide weather on the beach where they lived, in the beach house they lived in paid for by the government and partially by her dreams of becoming a freelance writer.
She made alot more than you think.
"Part time maid. part time receptionist. That should cover tomorrow's grocery bills."
She said with pride. The type of pride that states 'I've never struggled a day in my life rich spoiled brat' pride.
Plus, She was happy cooking and caring for the Calcutta born and Floridian accepted child, it was just a matter of being independent and doing what the doctors ordered so she could go on for the rest of her life if she so wished to, caring for him, and care for herself, not just financially, but medically speaking as well.
"We'll go out to play now. I wont bore you with mom's work any longer. I promise." She said with a kind ease and an even smoother tan lined. coastal joy.
Nicole Mayfair was a writer, a copywriter, a survey expert, and a mother of two. She has graduated from numerous schools, but had no job. She adopted little 7 year old Kumlali out of the Christian kindness you only read about, though being Mormon never stopped her from practicing mindfulness, and her daily yoga expertise.
we are going to build a sandcastle. let's have some fun. she said while the child did cartwheels along the shorelines of Jacksonville Beach, just enough to where his hands and feet brushed the water of the distilled seashore.
She knew how to have fun, She just didn't have a man in her life... until a stranger appears out of nowhere.
© Seraph Princess
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