a story about the horrors of one of the world wars and people's struggle for survival
This morning I awoke – once again – on the damp jagged concrete floor. The bitter cold penetrated all body heat. Dank stagnant air filled my lungs. My mother, Edith, was already awake. She sat propped against the equally cold wall the serrated metal making it impossible to be comfortable. Her hand gently stroking Florrie's hair. My sister looked so peaceful in her silent sleep, naïve to our dilemmas, but under that beautiful mop, deep in her head our lovely Florence knew everything all too well. She understood.
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story starters
Short StoryI have quite a few starts to stories that I never finished... so I thought that I'd post them and whichever gets the most votes/comments I will finish writing!! Some of them are a bit rubbish and some of them are from when I was younger but since I...
