Giovanni Murtha
Bio
There was never a passenger who moved so little and traveled so much as the devout reader.
Stories (2)
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Northern Penguins
The girl was sitting on the bed reading a book she had brought with her. It was Road Dahl’s The Witches. She was almost finished with the book and she only had a few left. On the first days of the trip, she had read seven of her thirteen books and she would not be able to get more of them until they returned to Juneau.
By Giovanni Murtha4 years ago in Fiction
Dying Garden
The boy walked past the ancestral home of wood and white paint. He had just reached the clearing where the foundation stood of the old southern relic. The trees had, until this point blocked the sun out, except for the occasional rays which broke through and shot perfect rods of yellow luminescence down to the pavement. It reminded him of the way the afternoon sun would beam into his family’s trailer through the holes scattered along the ceiling’s edge.
By Giovanni Murtha4 years ago in Fiction
