xxxviii.
she scraped me with the scissors a few times,
and since i tracked the sand in the house,
i had no more chances left.
so she kicked me out of the house.
i calmly packed up my stuff,
but before i left,
i spat on the doormat.
YOU ARE READING
precarious
Short Story❝what happens in this family doesn't concern you.❞ © poltaeroid