I’ve been their refuge,
Soon to be rows of houses.
Cry for them, mourn me.
About the Creator
Colleen Walters
i’m just a girl in Florida who likes to write things, usually inspired by events and people in my life..Always be you, because you are awesome-
When I grow up, I want to be a kid again.
Keep reading
More stories from Colleen Walters and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Clock
I'm standing in an ornate room, unable to account for how I got here. My gaze is fixed on the chiming grandfather clock in the corner. “Bong, bong, bong.” All at once I become aware of three things; I know this house, I’ve got to find the box, and time is slipping.
By Meagan Diona day ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.