There was a young man from Darjeeling,
Who heard he could dance on the ceiling.
Put glue on his feet,
Climbed the walls to the beat.
Now his head has all of the feeling.
About the Creator
Han Eliza
Writing for the sheer joy of it.
The Reluctant Reporter
"You can't send me!" "There is no-one else. It's you or no-one, and that is not an option." Ameera looked at the fat paunch and florid face of her boss, a man who lived for the story and the kudos it brought him but who rarely gave consideration to the people behind the drama. When had he become so hard? She reckoned that by the end of the year, he'd be dead, collapsed from a heart attack and she struggled to conjure any sympathy in that moment and instantly felt ashamed at displaying the same lack of compassion that he had.
By Rachel Deeming7 days ago in Fiction
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