ghilley
These chairs are cold. The walls are cold. Nothing about this place warms my spirit. And yet I sit here. Tapping my pen on my notebook. Waiting for my name to be called. I'll rise and enter with grace. It'll be the best performance of my life.
writing since 2013 · 3 entries · 2 days shown up
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waitingtappingwallscoldhairscratchingsittingroomstarkwhitesnifflesyawnsnowgrippingscriptsnames