snippet from untitled writing
untitled writing
That December morning i felt the cold-crisp air around me. That wasn't all i felt, it was either the feeling of being watched or the shivering sensation of the cold wind in my pale skin. I wanted to hide under my mother's skirt(something i would do when i was shy back when i was little) now i just imagined

1

Is the story over... or just beginning?

you may politely request that the author write another page by clicking the button below...


This author has released some other pages from untitled writing:

1  


Some friendly and constructive comments