Bethany Grace
Joined October 2017
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Grass Stains
I left in one of my dad’s shirts; over sized, grey and battered, he had thrown it into the charity bag. It was that stuffy time of the year, where England gets confused as to what season it is. The trees have barely gained back their leaves but the heat is stifling, until that icy wind cuts through everything. These two weeks of summer we treasured, when the world turned green and blue with a wash of yellow over everything, like a filter, it was just there. You had to squint your eyes.
By Bethany Grace6 years ago in Humans