When I climbed the stairs for junk,
I saw a man. He sat on the boxes in front of the round window. He held the photo in his hands. Then I asked him what are you doing here? And he replied that he came for me.
I looked at his face and was surprised. It was me. Photos of my family was in his hands. Then he spread the huge white wings and his light filled the entire attic.
Why am I here? Why am I again rummaging in a pile of junk? Is this the kind of life I wanted? What happened to my dream? I got up and looked out the window. It was raining.
Then I opened the window and stepped out of the attic of a fifteen-story house. Now I know who I am.
Angel in my attic
© Copyright: Эмилия Брайант, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119052102703
Свидетельство о публикации №119052102703
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