Photo by Caleb Woods on Unsplash
The clock is ticking
slowly by, and I ask why
as I run and hide
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About the Creator
Mary Driver
Passionate, empathetic, quirky. I write and sing music inspired by surviving addiction. I love Bob Seger & Tupac. I appreciate authenticity & kindness. I am intense. My Dad died from Alzheimer's, and it changed my heart.
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More stories from Mary Driver and writers in Poets and other communities.
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 Cravenabout 7 hours ago in Fiction
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