There’s a scab formed over the healing,
Crusted, dark red with an itch.
There’s a tendency to pick at the edges
Which makes it a bit of a bitch… 95 more words
“What’s that for?”
I was afraid, not scared, and curious why my cousin’s husband picked up a palm-sized rock from the ground. With the faint illumination coming from a disposable lighter with a pilot light, we trudged through the gravely path, not knowing what to expect on the road ahead. 480 more words