. . . In late evening the phone rang. Aya was staring out the window, as the darkness of the room surrounded her. “Hey there

The den of fiction writer, poetry maker and magic enthusiast.
. . . In late evening the phone rang. Aya was staring out the window, as the darkness of the room surrounded her. “Hey there
. . . The schedule afterwards consisted of Aya spending a lot of time like a personal assistant. Paperwork, the calls, the reservations, the taking
The ruckus caused by someone had made quite the show by now.
The sound of crayon scraping the floor made young mother awake early in the morning and check the ruckus in living room.