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Weekly Contest #50
I looked around at the once newly made tree house, placed in the wrong tree. The tree house was much more open, like a balcony. I looked over toward her hair short and messy, black that made me forget of her once natural hair so long ago. We sat in the tree house, I was in the hanging chair that I felt I could hide in and never be found. my knees hugged and I look around seeing how so much has changed. "Remember when you first told me that your dad was going to make a tree house?" I asked. She was on her phone trying to find something that w...
Weekly Contest #38
Taking a smoke, I came out on the black metal balcony that most apartment buildings had in New York City. Leaning on the cold, thin, and somewhat rusted metal, I stare out at the weird and uncomfortable silence that never occurs during any point in this city. Wearing a white tank top and an unbuttoned black short sleeve shirt to cool myself from the sticky warmth in my apartment. I breathed in the drug, holding for five seconds before puffing out the white wisp of smoke. Looking around as I dragged the old white cigarette from my mouth,...
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