killerabbit401
He ran and ran and ran.
He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
What he saw, he couldn't describe it. It was too absurd, too unreal.
Is it a dream?
Is truth stranger than fiction?
He didn't know. He didn't know anymore.
He just needed to go.
I found a spot, right behind a tree in a park between the dog fountain and a hot dog stand where a middle aged Italian man stands and smiles every day. I can smell the peppers from his cart and it gives my stomach a rumble every time. My pockets are empty though; just a pen and paper and peace of mind.
Red and orange and purple spilling into soft wisps of blues and pinks as the day ends and night begins, but nothing really ends and begins, does it? It just goes around and around like a spinning top or my little brother in the summer grass.
Red and orange and purple spilling into soft wisps of blues and pinks as the day ends and night begins, but nothing really ends and begins, does it? It just goes around and around like a spinning top or my little brother in the summer grass.