If beauty is a blade of grass,
and strength is a grain of sand,
then you are miles of rolling plains,
and a dune-filled desert land.
And your love, like the sun,
touches everyone.
When I turned 34, I decided to write a series of short stories. The only catch? Each story had to be 34 words. 34 years, 34 words. No more, no less. These are the fruits.