@nonstcp wanted random starters
--so i supply. w/o even an icon or theme
Alexander Jr. knocked insistently on his father’s door, standing tall and proud, pieces of paper clutched in chubby hands. “Daddy!” he called, reaching to open the door and peak inside. “Daddy, look I gotta show you--” If Philip could write a poem, then so could he.
( of course the writing on the paper was mostly illegible, and there was more ink on his arms then on the sheets themselves. )












