danifelice1124
She looks up at the window and sees that he is there again. Each day on the dot, the man appears and lingers solemnly. Alone. She wants to know his story but would never dare to climb the watchtower and find out.
As we lay in his toasty warm bed, our noses touched in bliss. His face was flawless. Our eyes interlocked and he leaned in to kiss me. The butterflies were mutual.
how do I get another word?!!??!?!?
i am bored. looking out the classroom window I see the same old dusty asphalt, the half broken, leaning elm tree and the moldy playground set.