WE'RE late. Time moves around me, minutes, seconds dissolving. I hear the clatter of footsteps upstairs, the groan of the wardrobe opening, the slam of it closing.
Friday 4 May 2018
Forgetting - An exclusive short story by Olivia Kieman
WE'RE late. Time moves around me, minutes, seconds dissolving. I hear the clatter of footsteps upstairs, the groan of the wardrobe opening, the slam of it closing.
0 comments:
Post a Comment