Forget-me-nots, tears,
And things once borrowed — why does
Blue need to be sad?
How does it work?
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More stories from Ava Safai and writers in Poets and other communities.
I wear glasses now. Looked at you more than the world. Life lived on blue screens.
By Ava Safai3 years ago in Poets
Bounty hunters are seldom in search of paper towels Satire should never be impossible Everything mundane has been painted with suspicion and terror
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​"The clock has struck three, the coffee is cold, and the shadows are beginning to speak. Welcome back to the desk of The Night Writer, where the stories are brewed in the dark."
By The Night Writer 🌙 4 days ago in Poets
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 18 hours ago in Fiction
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