via Daily Prompt: Winsome She stood at the bar, curling her hair round her fingers, toying with it until her fingers hurt. She carried on, rubbing the tendrils harder and more frantically, yet retaining her sweet smile. A guy had once told her she was pretty. Another, that she was cute. She could effortlessly... Continue Reading →
My head is a suitcase full of unorganised treasures waiting to be formed into narrative.
The Mum Poet 