ashley ford

Turn and forget the tears that are not worth mentioning

In my apartment building, there was a rich upstart who owned a Wolf dog. It was huge, with sharp teeth, and its eyes glowed in the dark, like a hungry male Wolf on the prairie. Sometimes stay up late at night to write, hear it issued by the window of the sad pale far cry, always trance, as if in a lush primitive forest, autumn wind blowing, leaves issued a rustling sound, everything is shrouded in a mysterious atmosphere.