Looking up at a snow-covered fig, he knows his secret is stained. He knows how to open a book but doesn’t say a word. There is ice coming down from the sky.
Posted by: corisa | November 6, 2008
Looking up at a snow-covered fig
Posted in Drama | Tags: 32 word short story, figs, flash fiction, ice from the sky, open a book, poetry, prose poetry, secrets
