The deep hues and earthy texture of the cloth reminded her of the rich spices of her homeland and she felt the pangs of reminiscence. Although she loved it for it’s familiar beauty, she decided to pass it by; wanting to look for something new and unfamiliar to get to know and, perhaps, come to love. ~Phillipa~ Excerpts from an unwritten book
I dread no more the first white in my hair, / Or even age itself, the easy shoe, / The cane, the wrinkled hands, the special chair: / Time, doing this to me, may alter too / My anguish, into something I can bear.
― Edna St. Vincent Millay