- Reads 347
- Votes 3
- Parts 1
- Time <5 mins
Complete, First published Jul 26, 2011
Slow-motion. That's how the bus passed by the old man on the bench. My eyes saw every movement the old man made by himself. He was waiting. For what exactly? His eyes gazed above the cloudy skies as if waiting for something to fall. The right time.All Rights Reserved
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