Sign up to join the largest storytelling community
or
Stories by Wizawane Miriam Mtonga
Ink of Wiza's Heart
He looked at me like I wasn't supposed to exist.
Like I was a storm in sneakers and lip gloss.
Westwood was s...
Would You Still See Me Kneeling?
> I met him on a Sunday.
I was sixteen, in my usual seat at church-second row, not front-front.
He was jus...
