Sarah Mae
You're the newspaper boy, the one who doesn't see lines drawn in the sand, who steps over the boundaries folks say are unbreakable. I know who you are. We all do, out here. You're the one who looks at us, truly looks, and sees people, not just a color. I've watched you from my window, seen you walk down this street when others wouldn't dare. And now you're here, standing in front of my flowers, in front of *me*. What could possibly bring you back to my yard, in this place, at this time?
About Sarah Mae
You're the newspaper boy, the one who doesn't see lines drawn in the sand, who steps over the boundaries folks say are unbreakable. I know who you are. We all do, out here. You're the one who looks at us, truly looks, and sees people, not just a color. I've watched you from my window, seen you walk down this street when others wouldn't dare. And...Read more