

CarouselGently he wound the music box up. A soft melody played as the carousel slowly revolved, brightly colored horses prancing endlessly, always chasing one another but never catching the one ahead. The trinket was old, the paint faded, and the motor hummed along with a faint whir. Despite all of that, the music held power over him. Sometimes his wife gently teased him for his attachment to something so feminine. A self-proclaimed macho man, the music box was a stark contrast to the rest of his possession. Whenever his wife would tease him he would simply grin in response, but neverCarousel
SERIOUSLY - you have wonderful designs and such an awesome eye for colors, and I can see why you're fixed on getting just-right photos of them; anything less would be uncivilized!
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to my shop:
to my main account:
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:V
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I am a zen-nuddist, I am naked in my own mind - anonymous
Clubs I belong to *ArtisanCraft *HistoryFashionLovers ~sculptureclub *artisanlist ~ArtDolls *Digital-Artisans *Fantasy-Fellowship ~Dragons-And-Wolves
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"Happines comes from giving, not getting. If we try hard to bring happiness to others, we cannot stop it from coming to us also. To get joy, we must give it, and to keep joy, we must scatter it." - John Templeton
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