Photo by Carlos Augusto on Unsplash
she walks tall
wears make up
does not want to
cause a shake up
and loves to dance
looks at the mirror
like what she sees
noticing that she
does not look sixteen
she will get mad
if anyone found out
her real age
1
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Final Call
She flings her arms around my neck and squeezes me like she’s never going to let me go. My head spins as her lips brush against my cheek. She must be able to feel my heart thumping in my chest. I shuffle backwards and ram my hands into my coat pockets, watching her reach down and heave the rucksack across her shoulders.
By Caroline Cravena day ago in Fiction
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