Sign up
Sign in
The squirrel disappears past the frame of the window. Electricity drains out of me and spills through the bars of my crib. Mom’s holding me now, and I’m pointing, commanding, a miniature general, to the window, to the squirrel, to the world outside. Tears on the general’s inconsolable cheeks.
ScienceDuuude
David Rudder
Follow
--
Share
Loved it SD you have the most wonderful way with words :))
Top writer in Poetry. I am a diarist and write poetry to reflect my thoughts.
Help
Status
About
Careers
Press
Blog
Privacy
Terms
Text to speech
Teams