Tich

Tich

Tich was our canary. He was small and yellow and sang like an angel. We loved him dearly. He lived in a big cage in our living room. When I played the piano he began to sing and I felt great joy But his life ended too soon We cried, seen hopeless how his little heart...

Inside

Today, tell us about the home you lived in when you were twelve. For your twist, pay attention to — and vary — your sentence lengths. I’m afraid of the elevator. It’s an old dark wooden machine inserted in a cage-like structure that quiver while it lifts...
Ink and oil

Ink and oil

Ink and oil. From the printer machine. A smell that means Dad had taken me with him to check his last book’s printing or to the newsroom. I love being with Dad. I don’t understand what he’s doing but I now is something important by the way everybody...
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