Photo by Dino Reichmuth on Unsplash
Babbling brooks below
Peaks soar high into the sky
Touched only by the crow
About the Creator
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The Light Turns
It's Tuesday 7:13 a.m. A cold and clear November morning awaits Ray on his morning commute. Ray rubs his hands together in the front seat of his Subaru. He turns the air temperature up, but keeps the air on low until the air warms up. He looks at the backup camera screen and reverses the Subaru out of his driveway onto Trimble Road.
By John R. Godwina day ago in Fiction
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