wesley whittick
Joined October 2018
1 story
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Enos, I was five and awoken by my parents, they were shouting. This wasn't the first time they argued. Getting out of my bed, crawling to reduce the noise. Crawling going over to the window, climbing up a stool to look out, there was nothing but clouds and a white glow, it was late.
By wesley whittick7 years ago in Poets
