August 10th; been and gone. Another one; where do they go? Where do birthdays go when the Cinderella Clock reaches 24.00? The carriage turns back into a pumpkin, the fine white horses into white mice; don't ask what the birthday cake turns into. But the eleventh of August has no charisma at all; not for me, anyway. Daresay it means a lot to those born/married/died on that day but not for me. Just one day can make all the difference.
Now that's a concept worth considering: just one day can make all the difference.
JB
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