She kept yarning stories one after another, so her son could know his father. He whom he never met, was alive in his mind like no other. The bruises black and blue, the man had given her, remained in her memories and tears that wet her. As she looped her yarn in one another she… Continue reading Yarn


Just like leaves on the branches or not, like snow on the ground covering the parking lot, like water flowing down with waves or a drop, like wind touching those cheeks (won’t stop), I feel exposed just like nature that’s open and around that’s mystery as much as its sound. via Daily Prompt: Exposed Exposed