Short both in height and in manner.
Walking up to The Tower was a harrowing journey all its own.
The Tower, a starch white building with a heavy profile, jutted into the sky, threatening to tear it to pieces. Walking up its thousand-step base brought one to a twin set of…
I don’t know her favorite color, and it’s too late to ask her.
Her bed, still covered in the virgin-white comforter with matching pillow shams, lies empty under the sun. At 5:37 PM, her room is beautiful.