The goodbye note, all I had left of her, was spotted with little drops, smudging the paper. They looked like tears, but smelled like scotch.
Daniel Galef writes when he isn’t reading.
by Daniel Galef
The goodbye note, all I had left of her, was spotted with little drops, smudging the paper. They looked like tears, but smelled like scotch.
Daniel Galef writes when he isn’t reading.