"I know that this instrument isn't only wood and strips of metal, it comes alive. It burns and singes. It sings and cries. It heals my mental scars and wounds with its soft melody."
/almaceleste2014
short story
The ink spilled across the paper gracefully, Only to create a small curly haired boy that somehow mustered his way into his thoughts. //Larrysstrawberry 2014.//. ONE SHOT