He felt something.
So did she.
Their friends saw their
connected heart strings.
But the so-called-ego ended up naming it just a fling.
YOU ARE READING
Dead Ends
PoetrySometimes it's not about the end. It's just about the story. A collection of four liners that I wrote which didn't have the oh-so-perfect endings. Well because life doesn't offer each and everyone the fairytale endings they grew up listening to.
Fling
He felt something.
So did she.
Their friends saw their
connected heart strings.
But the so-called-ego ended up naming it just a fling.
