I am beginning a new series of writings, to be more precise, Microfiction. I have read countless short stories and written some and though I am not a master weaver, I am excited to put my imagination to paper. Let me know what you think.
She wrote in a flurry, the stories her heart told her of blue skies and autumn .
The pen rushed over to take in the picturesque park where two lovers sat under a tree in autumn holding hands with their hearts full of hope . She looked into his eyes and saw promise.
The writer stopped in her tracks , thought for a moment, crushed the paper and flung it off the table.