creative writing
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I stroll past Rolex, Prada, and Dior, their windows getting cleaned for a cost higher than it would be to feed the man slumped outside for a day… a week, even. The tags on the handbags behind the shiny glass mock him for his audacity to sit in their vicinity. The smell of my pain…
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Have I mentioned that I’m trying new things and pushing myself to grow as a writer? I’ll be honest with you, I’ve never really felt like a writer but I can’t deny my love of words. And earlier this year, I came to the realisation that everything I do involves writing in some way. So…