Rhea was sitting in a box "boat" with her baby and "directions" on how to get where she needed to go. I asked her where that was. R: "Island 13. But that's where the soldiers were killing me. But I was tough." M: "But why were the soldiers killing you?!" R: "Because they didn't want me to sing on their island."
Remind me never to go there... ;-)
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Simply capturing the sweetness in the mundane and the treasures in the ordinary...
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