Gleice Miranda
Stories (8)
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The Blackout Pact
Peter climbed the last steps to the roof, opening the door to the terrace and closing it behind him. His breath fogged in front of his nose and mouth, the cold night biting his skin and reddening his cheeks. Still, it was bearable, the worst of winter gone for months now.
By Gleice Miranda5 years ago in Fiction
Of Flowers and Wine
“How is it going?”, Beatriz asked as soon as Ana answered the phone, voiced laced with curiosity and expectation. Sighing, Ana let her elbow rest on the terrace's parapet, eyes gazing over a London bathed in orange and pink hues. The city was breathtaking during the sunset. The high-rises reaching for the sky and reflecting its light, the London Eye pulsing with bright colors, St. Paul’s forever stoic and the Thames’ dark waters cutting the metropolis like an enormous snake.
By Gleice Miranda5 years ago in Humans
