I wake up with dirt falling in small amount from the roof, like always. I yawn and walk to the door keeping my head low, the little house was built for a hobbit, but they are myths. My parents always said they just died out, but I don't think they were ever real.
YOU ARE READING
short stories
RandomThese stories will be 2 to 5 sentences long, and make no sense, a least some will and some won't.
