Dear Diary,
She now walks a little, her mum said, this bundle of joy with black-currant eyes, now almost a year old. She has learned to point her index finger at what she wants me to see, all the wonders of this world in a cylinder of water, suspended high in the air, tilting to empty itself into the pool when filled.
When a colleague carried her into the ankle-high pool, her hand allowed to finger a little spout, she was bubbly with chuckles, her dimpled smile shining like a star. Behind her, even the evening's darkness seemed to swirl in delight amid a zephyr.
...At HY's housewarming party, I carried in my arms, the "Dimpled Princess" once again.
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