Photo by Cmst May on Unsplash
Blue roses aren't real
even when you have dyed them
make-up and filters.
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More stories from QC (A.K.A Soul Writer) and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Light Turns
It's Tuesday 7:13 a.m. A cold and clear November morning awaits Ray on his morning commute. Ray rubs his hands together in the front seat of his Subaru. He turns the air temperature up, but keeps the air on low until the air warms up. He looks at the backup camera screen and reverses the Subaru out of his driveway onto Trimble Road.
By John R. Godwinabout 19 hours ago in Fiction
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