The Awaited Page 3
by Lundy Burge
surprised to feel her cold tears on it again. She hadn’t cried in years.
The tear residue on her hand twinkled in the sunlight. It was pretty, but her eyes quickly drifted back to the road and began to follow the cars as they sped back and forth, back and forth.
Birth of Pong
The Day After
A Murder
Near Miss
Sparks Shower
The Vertical Marathon
