Now, I'm sitting here. Just hanging on my favorite chair. Just drinking my coffee.
I am living, but actually I can't go on with life.
I don't wanna write books anymore.
When I write, I just fantasize about a world that doesn't exist in reality.
When I write, I forget the pain. I forget the faces I saw.
But I can't forget. I should carry that face forever in my heart.
I can't live and be happy at the same time, cause my heart is changed.
YOU ARE READING
I saw his face #English
Short StoryJoe wanted to travel the world. He visited places he never saw in reality. He wanted to make memories. He wanted to taste new food, to be part of a new culture for a few days and to find some inspiration for the books he wrote at home. He thought he...
