The darkness was all encompassing, save a lone stream of light, streaking across the room. This light is settling on one lone ornament. Layers of dust betrayed the years of solitude. Yet the slight sheen was still present, telling a story of years long past, a story of frivolity and celebration, a story of love and friendship. None of that seemed to matter, however, as the dust remained undisturbed. The ornament remained a remnant to a forgotten time, never to be seen again.
YOU ARE READING
The Short Story Collection
Short StoryA collection of my little snippets of stories. They are happy, scary, and sappy, so be ready for anything.
