Her Chicken Scratch / Short Stories


“I want to say his face was hard… but it wasn’t.” She said, balancing the phone on her right shoulder. It was sticky from her grasp.

aleciawrites.coma6“Well, what are you going to do?” The voice on the other end replied. It was harsh, but didn’t anger. And the air between them seemed restricted so fondly it was forced.

Hearing that he was home, she replied;



Writing and Photo by A. Writes 


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