Photo by Vadim Bogulov on Unsplash
Hiding in my room
Angry steps, a thousand fists
No soul, yet it smiles
About the Creator
Vili
Bitter patter
Sometimes It's Like That and That'sThe Way It Is
It was the late 1960s, and ten-year-old Gloria Coleman was standing with her grandmother on the side of the highway waiting for the bus. As the Greyhound pulled up, it seemed monstrous and intimidating. Grandma Elizabeth grabbed Gloria's hand, holding it tightly as they boarded.
By Cheryl E Preston5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
too real. <3