This week a child touched me. Not metaphorically, but really. She actually reached out and touched me. It happened on Larchmont. I was holding a bright blue wallet and she waddled on up--this adorable little girl--and she just touched my hand and stared at me and smiled. It happened on Thursday.
The world is a magical place for a child on a Thursday on Larchmont when a woman who must appear very old to her--and tall too--meanders down the street holding a fabulously bright color in her hand.