Clean shaven with short hair, he looked young and straight. Attempts at small talk received only grunts, or silence with narrowing stares. He felt like a cop in a crack house. Making his way to the back of the room, he saw a familiar face. “I know you,” said a young-looking woman with a broad smile. “What are you doing here?” she asked. He walked by. He didn’t answer. He didn’t know.
March 31, 2007
I've been wanting to do this for a while. Now I can type instead of pen scratch in a journal. It's an experiment, but isn't life. I wish you joy and happiness. May life bless you and may you bless life. View all posts by writesome
This entry was posted on Saturday, March 31st, 2007 at 2:49 pm and posted in Drama. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.