Run

Run

LECTURES 70
Votes 6
Chapitres 1

En cours d'écriture<5 mins

Dernière publication ven., oct. 17, 2014

My mother stands in the middle of the road, her golden hair whipping in the atumn breeze. My mother looks like those angels that I see in picture books at school, right down to that sad, innocent smile. She gives me one of those smiles, her pale lips curling upwards. A squeal is heard as tires skim the semi-frozen pavement, horns blaring as the car slams into my mother. All I could do is scream.

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