Pfft, aren’t you optimistic,” my mouth twists into an ugly grimace as I clench my fists. My throat dries from the rushed breathing as my vision blurs, tears drying, my blood pounds in my ears. “Thinki...
He's the navigator, he could probably find you a route to Hawaii underwater.
This is a cemetery of memories and I'm grave robbing.
Yet I can’t bring myself to derail from her nor can I reject what I feel in the most primitive parts of me: hope. Because that’s what I feel with her, hope that the world can get better. Hope that a n...
