Scene: Third grade creative writing class. My teacher asks us to write out a list of our favorite places. As an eight-year-old I wait for a moment with my pencil poised, thinking. I look around me and notice that all of the other students have already set to work scribbling down such things as “my...
About Me
Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated.