In all great works of literature, fall is symbolic of death. I wonder how can something so beautiful also be something so devastating? The leaves swirl in an endless picture of red, orange, yellow, and brown paints. A masterpiece is constantly being creating right in front of my eyes. But in order for this masterpiece to become a reality, those leave must die. And so I realize, that all death has some beauty.
YOU ARE READING
Searching for anything
Short StoryThis book is a collection of stories, truths, and life knowledge I learn. From love to drugs to alcohol to hatred to god and everything in between. Everything in this book is real and will contain mentions of drugs, alcohol, love, religion, rape, se...
