No Pump by Cecile C

salty language

Eric burst out laughing again, louder this time; Zane was in the other room, ostensibly sleeping on our couch but I heard his laughter in response; both of them home late and flying high and laughing at things no one else found funny—no one being me. I looked at the blue-lit numbers on my bedside...

This content is for members only.
Log In Register
Cecile
Cecile
Articles: 125

Short Story Festival

Over five days you will be inspired by excellent teachers to create, write and ultimately evaluate a short story.