Made by the courtesy of NightCafe Studio https://creator.nightcafe.studio/
I was in his dreams
He knew me before we met
For he called me “Son.”
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Thavien Yliaster and writers in Poets and other communities.
Waiting
It could have been the perfect summer day. The hot July sun warmed the water in the backyard pool just enough to be comfortable and refreshing. The laughter of the five little girls echoed against the splashing water as they chased each other in a classic game of Marco Polo. The game distracted them enough that they failed to notice the dipping sun nearing the horizon. Their fingers and toes had long ago turned wrinkly like raisins, but none wondered why they had been left to play so long today.
By A. J. Schoenfeld6 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.