Page 90 - Anonymous
P. 90
know what changed us, but something
did.
I knock at Willow's bedroom door.
The buzz of the hairdryer is a familiar
sound these days.
“A few more minutes,” she shouts
over the noise. These days my daughter
is up at the crack of dawn, drying her
hair, picking the perfect outfit.
When did she grow up and leave
behind the Disney T-shirts and tutus?
