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I remember the days When I was young and full of life, Looking forward to early mornings. I used to…
It is very seldom that mere ordinary people like John and myself secure ancestral halls for the summer. A colonial…
Mr. Max Madison was sixty-one years old when he had that vicious thought. He wanted to open an account on…
Cold droplets of water fall from my face as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The purple of…
Proud thou not and think a dearest friend Plot not the graph of arrogance Nor study the Atlas of dishonesty …
This epistolary is inspired by a story I saw on YouTube of a shooting victim who forgave his shooter. Among…
The streetlights painted the city with an orange glow, creating an illusion of warmth. I walked by the lines of…
The breeze played with my hair, sending a strand over my eyes. I pulled it away and frowned. The once…