Dear Priya, the glass chards of youth had colored teeth and changed the sunlight. Life can be a gambol like a slot machine you pay for a chance to win , but often lose. The writer inside calls you. The pen doesn’t write. You make the words. You are there. Have no doubts. Look forward to your next writing.
Dear Priya, the glass chards of youth had colored teeth and changed the sunlight. Life can be a gambol like a slot machine you pay for a chance to win , but often lose. The writer inside calls you. The pen doesn’t write. You make the words. You are there. Have no doubts. Look forward to your next writing.
Dear Priya, the glass chards of youth had colored teeth and changed the sunlight. Life can be a gambol like a slot machine you pay for a chance to win , but often lose. The writer inside calls you. The pen doesn’t write. You make the words. You are there. Have no doubts. Look forward to your next writing.
Richard, thanks for reading! I love the glass teeth. Appreciate your support!