Spring rolled through like bruised apples; the house still smells like Winter. Somewhere is a missed opportunity. Summer is turning into hot pumpkin lattes. No one gives a cent because someone is hoarding coins—yadda, yadda, yadda, dum-dum diddy. We lost our getaway, our annual moment of jubilee.
David W. Jones Creative Writing 1 Minute
Published by David W. Jones
David is a writer and blogger who enjoys creating literary expressions about everyday life. He is a published poet and currently doing reviews, creative writing, and storytelling. David's interests include narrating point-of-view scenarios, documenting non-fiction, and writing scripts for film and television. View all posts by David W. Jones