"I felt something when I was with you, you know?" She stated shyly, blushing.
"...It was just wind," He turned, and walked away.
"Yeah," She said as his retreating steps no longer echoed in her ears.
"Just the wind."
YOU ARE READING
When I Can't Do Anything Else
PoetryWhen I can't do anything else, I write poems. [Became #1 in Poetry a long time ago]
