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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2020
Submitted to Contest #35
My eyes stare at the white walls made of powdery dry wall. Hairline cracks and tiny little bumps decorate the plainness that expands in front of me every time my crusty eyes open like the tectonic plates that carry the earth, slowly, grievingly slow. If I was still a writer, I could find beauty in these walls as if they were the night sky full of stars that have seen it all. In a way, these walls have seen it all, but they are bored and so am I. If I was still a writer, t...
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