The hinges of the door to my 80-year-old home creaked as it opened. There he stood, like a ghost on my porch. His eyes were dark, tired and empty. He looked up at me, hair disheveled. I no longer recognized …
A collection of fictional mini stories.
A collection of fictional mini stories.
The hinges of the door to my 80-year-old home creaked as it opened. There he stood, like a ghost on my porch. His eyes were dark, tired and empty. He looked up at me, hair disheveled. I no longer recognized …
Pretty or Not 