Bleeding Heart blossoms fill me with the strongest, sweetest sort of nostalgia. They bloomed outside the back door of our home in Blue River and as a pre-schooler, I have a hazy recollection of my older sister, a barely teen, telling me a charming tale as she disassembled a blossom. There was a rabbit and a slipper and a princess too I think.
By then, my older sisters had gone away to school and I only saw them on school holidays. Her presence was special, her attention the sweetest treat of all.
By then, my older sisters had gone away to school and I only saw them on school holidays. Her presence was special, her attention the sweetest treat of all.
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