Where am I? An 8×10 square room with a feeling of no air. White walls with dirt marks caused by the edge of my dirty feet mirroring an eeriness inside my mind. The bright white light blinds me for a millisecond and then I see again. A table of inferior quality stands on its four […]
via [66] Writing Exercise: “In A Regretful Room” — Smoke words every day.
Naked Cities Journal 