30 Days of Write is back, and this is my entry for the first assignment:
Right then, as he walked away, I wished it was winter. I wished for frost to hide my tears, and snow. I wished for snow, so I could follow his footsteps like string into the woods. Instead, the still heat of August left me exposed and hid his path completely. Only a few broken blades of grass said he had ever been there at all.
This might be a story I'll return to, so your input is appreciated.
What We Found in the Divorce: Part V — Time
2 years ago