She put on her ballet slippers and went to her first dance class.
She loved it.
She tried so hard.
She laughed. Giggled.
And couldn’t stop chattering about it all all the way home.
That is what innocence looks like.
Pure innocence. Nothing like it.
Blinding white innocence.
How long does it last.
When I look at the three generations before me, I realize for these three that the blinding white innocence is always present.
Sweet. Genuine. Honest.
Three ages. Same purity.
The ageless experiment.
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