I can't forgive my friends for dying; I don't find these vanishing acts of theirs at all amusing.
I can't forgive my friends for dying; I don't find these vanishing acts of theirs at all amusing.
But why wasn't I born, alas, in an age of Adjectives why can one no longer write of silver-shedding Tears and moon-tailed Peacocks, of eloquent Death, of the Negro and star-enameled Night.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories