Christina wasn’t trying to figure these things out for an actual purpose. She wasn’t a spy working undercover to find a thief. She wasn’t infiltrating a secret organisation. She was a stressed and worried woman who kept twisting her fingers together as if she was going to snap them off, trying to distract herself from the twisting happening in her stomach. So, trying to figure out if the woman opposite was in her early 30’s or late 20’s, even though she had very luminescent grey and white hair, was a good distraction from the feeling in her feet telling her to run as far away as possible.
Tag: Therapy
Someday (Poem)
Ahh... happy memories. Does anyone remember those? Someday I shall be better. I’ll be a person who can speak their mind Without the constant fear of what others think. I’ll choose my own passage, My own words, And I’ll read aloud from the holy book of me. Because I can’t do that now. Someday I… Continue reading Someday (Poem)
The Literary Onion 