I died on December 30th, 1918, as a young woman who thrived and looked for more, I found someone who did the same. I found him. Going from places I never knew to going to places I knew far too well.
At the age of 28, I wanted more, like anyone else, I wanted to be successful but I found it fairly difficult on my own, so I started talking to others, getting to know them, or simply analyzing them by the way they fake their smiles. But I did so happen to stumble across this young man, tall, sharp jaw, and in a sense he was pretty, well, that was a year or two ago when I met him. I decided to approach the man without knowing what was in store for me.
And after some time we fell in love; we got married, left our hometown to discover something new, discover what we didn't get taught.
YOU ARE READING
1918
RomanceI wish I could've been her, but now it is my time to leave and let him rest at ease. (This is my first story so please don't judge tHaNKs!)
