I remember the day of my eighth
birthday. How you pushed my head
into the cake and I was mad at you.
I ignored you the whole day, until you
said sorry.
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.
