She’s bloody well late again.
A leaf lay still on a riverbank. The waters that brought her there had frozen, encasing her brown body in what seemed to be a glass casket. Continue reading “Marie. (Week 25: Fiction)”
She’s bloody well late again.
A leaf lay still on a riverbank. The waters that brought her there had frozen, encasing her brown body in what seemed to be a glass casket. Continue reading “Marie. (Week 25: Fiction)”
