Rain droplets raced down the window sill slowly before the saddened face of Ben Sartre. Days had already come and gone and yet his mood had not wavered. After the news had left his mothers lips his mind had gone numb, too stubborn to think of something more pleasant than his best friend's unexpected death. Ben had just turned 17 a month or so ago, and almost all of those years had been spent with the neighbor boy- Sam Sued- a hilariously risky teenager whom had no conscious in sight.
YOU ARE READING
Are We Out of the Woods Yet
General FictionA story about personal conflict and the meaning of the expression,"are we out of the woods yet?" Also winging the story, so the plot is really quite spontaneous
