I remember the day when I fell off my
bike for the fifth time and you offered
me a hand.
I grabbed your hand and stood up
straight, saying I could've stood up on
my own.
I wiped my tears from my face and we
began to play again.
We were happy.
YOU ARE READING
When We Were Happy?
Short Story"Well I don't want to remember." Not friends, not enemies, just strangers with some memories. ~ Please give this story a try. I'm no professional writer, but I hope you enjoy.
