I slowly open my eyes, letting in the bright light outside.
It's about all I can do anymore.
I glance to my right. The window's blinds are closed, but the light still seeps through, reminding me of the day I cannot enjoy.
I look to my left. The photo of us is staring back at me. It knows what happened.
I close my eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Dream writer
ActionFor all skills, one has to start somewhere. This is my beginning. This is a series of short stories, usually from song lyrics, sometimes from the people I meet and (should I run out of ideas) prompts from Pinterest. There is a common theme and...