Dec 2015
The stubble left on your chin brushed my cheek and I couldn’t ignore the burning in my chest any longer. Our lips held a conversation without words and your hands found pieces of me that I forgot existed. I swore you were the one, but maybe it was just the tequila.
here is something I have been working on in my writing class as a professional writing major, called a stonehenge. A stonehenge is a story that is only made up of three sentences. I hope you enjoy it, and maybe write a few of your own!
