Isnât it absurdly ironic
Almost then wildly moronic
That not a soul
In any role
Will ever fathom whatâs ironic?
About the Creator
Sneha Pradhan
Storyteller. Dreamer. âš
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Compelling and original writing
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More stories from Sneha Pradhan and writers in Poets and other communities.
Trouble at the Tea Leafing Café
The rain had started right around the time that Annie was buttering her second thick slice of homemade toast for breakfast, and hadnât paused since. Not that anyone could tell. The windows of the cafĂ© were fogged over, and with every seat filled with happy customers munching on fresh baked pastries or steaming bowls of the delicious soup of the day, it was hardly surprising. Annie looked around the room, finally taking a moment to breathe after the lunch time rush. Her old life already felt like a bad memory, a part of her history, always, but just that. History.
By Hannah Moore7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Ah, I love how this looped back! Fantastic!
Nicely written - also it has a great sound to it :)
This one poses a very interesting question. Well done!