"What are you running from?" She read the scribble in the book lying on her lap.
Those few words made her heart race, it was as they were meant for her.
She'd drowned herself in literature.
Since when had literature begun to ask questions?
Sighing gently she turned the page.
**
very nice lines :) .. perhaps she was searching her third face in the depth of literature !
ReplyDeleteOr perhaps somerhing else? :)
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