On days like this, I think about the man I used to be. The one that was fragile and would melt away as things would heat up. The problems thrown my way were all avoided or shouldered off. I was a shadow that crept by day by day. No one would notice me as an individual but classify me with the others. Yes the other "special" kids. We were unique and the same. Alike but different. All in all, the snow would fall. Gently. Slowly. And then, before you know it, the snow melts away. The corpses of the winter tears flow down the lonely road of a broken man.
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On Days Like This
Short StoryOn the days it rains and on the days it shines, my brain goes to a time when I had made some mistakes or maybe even done good. The choices I shouldn't make and the ones that I should.
