alfredo vazquez
Stories (1/0)
You are the light of my life
Before you appear, you are a bright raindrop. ----------- If you understand the meaning of the word "grant," you will understand how wonderful that rainy evening was to me. I had closed the doors and Windows early, curled up on the couch and watched TV. The sound of the rain outside, like the sweaty cries of the craftsmen who walk the streets on a summer's day, wears away the hard rock and seeps into the soft soil of the community garden. I'm the only one in the house. I've lived here for four years, and I've spent almost every night after work and before bed like this. You can imagine a fuzzy, heavy bear hibernating on a couch with a hot water cup. If someone took a pair of scissors and snipped away all the fluff that felt comfortable, they would see a tired face.
By alfredo vazquez11 months ago in Fiction