The tall roadside grass brushed the swollen ankles of the very pregnant girl. Her blistered, angry feet begged her to rest. Why couldn’t she stick around, and fight? She felt silly now, running like a child. She might as well pull a little red wagon behind her with a well-loved teddy bear inside.
She sunk down and the tears flowed. Could she swallow her pride, and ask him to forgive her?
Soon, the familiar truck pulled up beside her.
“Hey, Beautiful. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?” He pleaded so that she didn’t have to.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 5:49am on Nov 08, 2024 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
