A short story I wrote a few weeks ago.

Written by iffi

“You’re not welcome to stay. You have to go. Pick a direction and start walking”, said the little girl, who couldn’t have been more than 9 years of age. Her rag-like dress was covered with dirt and her face also shared the same similarity, dirt, clearly giving the impression of playing in this field of dying grass. “Why am I here? You didn’t answer me before. How did I get here and who are you?” I inquired. What was going on? I had no clue. “You have to go”, she insisted. “Go before you’re too late!” she pleaded as her dark brown eyes widened.

read the full story here