tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39913792011-04-21T17:13:39.669-07:00Shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11260226534724600350noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991379.post-858306822002-12-11T01:42:00.000-08:002002-12-11T01:42:36.936-08:00

Chapter one Walking down Tinker Street at a brisk pace, captured by tiny round leaves– shimmering and smooth–the young woman stops short. “Baby Tears, native of Corsica... an island off the South of France”, as the words fall from professionally painted lips, Julia rushes over the Catskill Mountains, over the Ocean, over the Sea, and over the years. Catapulted in the outburst of a summer in

Shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11260226534724600350noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3991379.post-853854352002-12-02T09:41:00.000-08:002002-12-02T09:41:34.610-08:00

This is the book of my mother.

Shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11260226534724600350noreply@blogger.com