A PORTRAIT OF FREEDOM
The park was his favourite. It was right across the street from his house, and every day, when his father came home, he asked to go. His little heart leaped for joy when he would see his father smile and nod…
Read MoreThe park was his favourite. It was right across the street from his house, and every day, when his father came home, he asked to go. His little heart leaped for joy when he would see his father smile and nod…
Read MoreShe cautiously waddled across the sand towards the lapping waves. Her father was a step and a half ahead of her, holding out his hand for hers, encouraging her towards the shoreline…
Read MoreIn a way, this is the hardest entry to write.
Beginnings are tough. You start with a blank page and you have aspirations for what that page could become, but you don't know where to begin. I might have to plagiarise just to get myself started...
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