Small and tender fingers gripped unto the slim length of a quill as it attempted to make steady and clear words from shaky letters on a parchment. The fingers and the coach quarrelled long; both stubborn to fulfill it's task. Light streamed unto the parchment, on the small suit case, on small laps, from the slightly cracked window blind, letting in a small contrast to the rather dark coach.
First Lines Contest 2019: Lucy Wickshire
The First Lines Contest 2019 is closed. Please submit your vote in the current year.