Within My Dreams
I wish it would stop. My parents screaming at eachother, things shattering as they're thrown to the floor, sirens blaring along the streets, and impatient car horns. It never ends.
I wish it would stop. My parents screaming at eachother, things shattering as they're thrown to the floor, sirens blaring along the streets, and impatient car horns. It never ends.
Late at night, my igloo is cozy and warm, unlike the Artic outside. Grandmum tucks me into bed, but doesn't leave just yet. She takes a seat on the edge of my bed, and prepares her story telling voice.
Here’s the thing about being a boat: your quality of life depends entirely upon the humans who take care of you. As for me, I suppose I’m lucky. They haven’t traded me out for another, even though I’m old and my motor doesn’t work much.
I work at the front desk in an art museum.
It's more exciting than you'd think.