I write fiction I've been scared to post, and poems I spam everywhere.
“He doesn’t even care!” he thought, watching Mr. Watts shake parting hands with the delivery driver. Had he not been in his kitchen he would have spit on right on the ground before his feet –
By jl wood6 months ago in Fiction
Lucy looked up at the sky, waiting for the man to get on with it. The man stared down at his notebook, brows furrowed. “What now?” Lucy asked, pacing, frustrated at having to be told to ask at all.
She’d come so far, but not quite enough. A lipstick tipped cigarette, flicked on it’s last puff. She hit the gas, igniting,
By jl wood6 months ago in Poets
