I want to go back.
I miss the comfort of my small home.
The scent of the area, the low population that surrounded me.
We rented a small apartment.
Though it smelled of exhaust fumes and rotting foods from the dirty neighbors.
I didn't like it here.
But I'm okay with this place if it's happy.
YOU ARE READING
Static
Poetrya short story in which a person attempts to survive with its own controlling antagonist. - this is my first time writing a book. i would really appreciate constructive criticism. leave a comment and vote; whatever you want. - lowercase intended -
