I remember growing up thinking everything was so big. The fridge I couldn't reach to top of. The bed I could crawl under and hide. The couches I could climb over as though they were mountains. The yard that held a hundred mysteries. The hill that seemed impossible to ride up.
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 Big:
Following:
Soon we'll let you keep track of interesting writers. Notifications aren't ready yet, but you can start "following" writers you enjoy right away! Much love.