vonnthompson
I am alone. My footsteps pitter patter an uncertain rhythm against the wet concrete. My hands rush along the grimy wall of the alley. It's the side the Chinese restaurant was on when I was a kid. My eyes search along the bricks at the farthest end of the alley; finally, I see it, painted on with care.
writing since 2013 · 1 entries · 1 days shown up
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alongalleyalonefootstepspitterpatteruncertainrhythmagainstwetconcretehandsrushgrimywallchinese