Everyday through the bars on my window, I trace the outline of the old trees with my finger. One day, I hope to touch them. FT @130story
(3 stories)
Everyday through the bars on my window, I trace the outline of the old trees with my finger. One day, I hope to touch them. FT @130story
The sweatstained gaoler hovered over her.. Syra feigned approval.. her hand brushed his key tracing their form to a vector file...@130story
The bulldozers have arrived.Of the old office there's no trace.A brand new building will rise up in its place. @130story