Merry Christmas!
Btw I started a photoblog by the name of One, I-m-age Less! and it will feature some of my (in or out dA) photographs with a part of literature. The url is [link]

MotherMy mother is a falling star. Leaving all that is golden about her in her trail until she is nothing but blackness, or maybe a grey rock that crashes through a window and into someone's loft.Mother by ~MeadowCress
She was the bubbling youth, all the freshness of spring and attractiveness of summer molded into a human being. At least that's how I remember her. It's not how my siblings will. They might treasure memories of dinners and bed-time stories the way I treasure the memory of girl's night out with the daughter in tow.
I always found falling stars sad. Bleeding out all their glitter on the way down to rock hard ground. Going from something I always imagined
