The fabric slid through my fingers and landed on the floor, it's folds destroying the frayed edges. Each garmet was a journey, an art piece expressing a person's identity. What would I tell this time, so that some would know me by just a glance? My machine hummed and I worked on love.
55 words
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The goal of this blog is to share stories in 55 words or less. Title included.
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Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot.
By order of the Author.
Per G. G., Chief of Ordnance
--Mark Twain
By order of the Author.
Per G. G., Chief of Ordnance
--Mark Twain
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