“Can you check under my bed?”
No amount of tears could stop what was set in motion.
A short story by Lydia Kwa
She was sleeping on some dirty newspapers and there was a puppy lying next to her.
I was beautiful once.
Again, she is late and again, her husband sighs.
The old woman hears the sound from her bedroom and her heart drops.
There would always be the whispers.
I have always liked staring at the moon.
There are too many trees, there’s too much green and I haven’t had coffee in 5 hours.