Only the Trees Know
but they keep their silence
Night air on the lake,
Flames consume my guilty shame;
Forest secrets stay.
About the Creator
Mary E Bradbury
I wrote my first short story at 13 and it became like breathing for me. Pages and pages of a thousand streams of consciousness. Then life got in the way. My kids are now teens and I am compelled to share them. I have to breathe again.
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To Give Your Last Twenty
He walks oddly, shuffling and nearly tripping down the hallway toward his apartment door. I slow my pace, allowing my neighbor— a stuffy ex-marine with one missing tooth and a strong odor of liquor and two weeks' worth of unwashed stench always accompanying him—to reach his door. I crinkle my nose, nearly gagging as he dawdles ahead.
By Ashley4 days ago in Motivation
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