The only thing greater than good church on a Sunday

is the great nap that you take afterwards.

In the spring time, you open up the windows, and the wind makes the curtains dance. The trees are recently budding, and there is an imminent greenness outside. The colored bottles on the window are glowing in the afternoon light and there’s very little sound other than the passing of cars. And you just drift off, thoughtfully, wistfully….

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