You see a light through a picture window in the evening, escaping through long, white curtains not fully drawn. It is a tiny beacon of comfort to you, outside. The warm glow an invitation to a safe place where you might feel free to be genuine. You knock gently on the door, the vulnerability breaking your already fragile heart. You step into a softly lit room with a crackling fire. A warm blanket and glass of bourbon with a single, large cube of ice smoldering inside the glass awaits. Smiles exchanged, listening ears await. May it be to you today, to know that you will be okay.
Kacie B. Sharpe 