I write because I read. I read because I write.
I remember how the wind comb your long black hair as we climb our favourite hill. I remember how your eyes brighten up as I give you wild flowers--- your happy pills. I remember our favourite tree. It stood firm and proud. While our young love’s too mute to be loud. I remember our spot.… Continue reading I Remember
She’s the apple-of-the-eye of all the third graders, but not in a well-meant way. She is the newest kid with chubby cheeks and curly ginger hair. She’s deemed mysterious, actually, mischievous. She lives in an old slaughterhouse found in the almost-abandoned area of our town. She allegedly lives with her grumpy evil-like grandpa. Some say they are… Continue reading New Girl
A Reading Writer 