the threads in her head

the sandman is at your window-

"he goes around
and puts little grains of sand in your eyes
and this sand is magical
and puts you to your sleep
when you wake up and rub your eyes
there lies the handiwork of the sandman"

an unexpected tale from one who is usually not a story-teller makes me feel warm, sweet and nice, like a little kid again.

go to sleep in too-big clothes and feel small but loved. ah stories and tales, i do love thee so.

and i thank the story-teller too.