Next
By rosaliekempthorne
Thu, 12 Apr 2018
- 462 reads
1 comments
Cars go by outside the window. Red. Green. Yellow. Blue. Grey. Yellow again. She doesn’t know what the car she’s waiting for will look like
In truth, she can barely remember him
Except that it felt like flying when he picked her up.
Maybe the next one will be his.
Picture credit/discredit: author's own work
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