Last Train to Wormley

Riding the rails was her last grasp at freedom

Photo by Mimipic Photography on Unsplash

Tires screeched to a halt. Fifty dollars in fives and tens flew into the front seat of the taxi. Door slammed shut with a ‘thank you’ thrown over her shoulder. Red hair streaming behind her, long, sparkling emerald nails clutched her bag to her side. The regal woman shoved the shopping cart to the side, dirty homeless waif along with it.

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Cute little bookery where you can explore my imagination through my writing. Grab a seat, pick a story and lose yourself for a little while.

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H.C. Holmes

H.C. Holmes

Adventurous with my thinking, dangerous with my pen.

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