z
  • Home

Young Writers Society


16+

Hollow Cylinders (Chapter One)

by MeherazulAzim16


Warning: This work has been rated 16+.

Chapter 1: sands



A living mesh of black flesh and goo lurched itself at Foebe. She dodged its attack and watched it fly past her.

The mesh spun mid-air to correct its course and launched itself right back at her. It smashed into her mecha-suit’s core, right below the cockpit.

The blow startled her but then muscle memory from a year of movement training kicked in: she used her side-stick controllers in perfect harmony, successfully keeping balance and staying on the suit’s metal feet. The impact still sent her about three meters backwards in the sand.

The creature retreated, probably to reposition and give itself enough space to gain momentum.

Foebe opened developer console on her display system. She typed a split-second input on her keyboard—it was attached to her lap-belt—and her right suit-arm unsheathed a sword; it was burning red. Her trained eyes tracked the mutant, it was already mid-attack, coming at her at the speed of a well-pitched baseball. She advanced her left foot, metal-core leaning toward her enemy, and swung the smoldering blade in her (suit’s) right hand in an arc—beginning from just behind her right shoulder, then meeting her left hand in a two-handed grip just above the suit’s bat-ear-like left antenna, ending in a sharp, diagonal slash.

The red sword met the blob’s amoeboid skin and evaporated it. Then it cut into and through its humanoid insides, ruthlessly slicing the creature in half. Every drop of blood that came into contact with the blade vaporized instantly. Steam miraged her view for a moment. Thankfully, a gust of onshore breeze cleared out the air. Foebe watched carefully as both halves of the creature splatted against the cold, grey sands of Psalmos Beach. Stomach acid and ebony intestines splashed everywhere; the blood and goo dirtied the suit’s legs, sections of the core and bottom half of the windshield.

“Pathetic,” she muttered. She pressed a button. This prompted the suit to rest its hands.

Protected by the suit’s heavy-shielding, she couldn’t feel a thing. The acid, the heating blood or the wet sand. And yet she could smell the familiar stench of raw Mutant-corpse. The windshield and the energy shield growing of her DAN-choker filtered and suppressed most of it but even the small amount of stink that snuck through was incredibly revolting.

Foebe moved forward, towards the shore. She didn’t want this dead, pathetic blob of meat to be her last victim this evening. She wanted a bigger prey. The smell kept her focused, motivated. She would kill until she puked and not even Rudy would be able to stop her.

She found her next target, a taller, fatter mesh of a human and a rat. Down on all fours with its skinny tail writhing about like a baby snake. It was trying to escape into the Black Sea. The human-rat crawled, rolled and tumbled, struggling against the sand and its own pathological, damned physique. The legs on one side of this mutant was lengthier than its own body. On the other side, its limbs were shorter than a sheepdog’s dick.

One quick command into the keyboard and the suit-engines revved on like a Ferrari from the old world. She dashed forward, riding an awesome burst of speed, and—with a well-timed flick on her right-stick—managed to uppercut the creature with her weapon, at first contact severing its tail and then severing everything else. To her surprise, this one bled purple. She had witnessed mutant-blood colors other than black before but this was new and for whatever reason, more disgusting.

She looked around. The beach was filled with dead, useless meat. Most of the mutants had retreated and then mixed, or rather… dereified into the sea the moment she pulled her blade. All these creatures lacked proper hearing organs but made up in heightened vision. She reckoned that must be why her blade always forced the mutants onto back foot. That was the reason she drew it as last resort. It was no fun when the prey ran away.

“You done?” Rudy yelled out. His windshield was down. Foebe was used to the stench and the bitter salt in the air but it was as if this son of a bitch liked it. She had even heard a classroom rumor that his old-world ancestors were butchers by trade. That may as well be but Rudy could never be a butcher. He was too kind for that line of work. Or was it offensive to assume that butchers couldn’t be kind?

Dunno, she thought. I sure would’ve loved to ask one of them.

Too bad butchery was now an obsolete profession.

“Is it over?” Rudy yelled and waved at her.

“Yeah,” she said through the intercom.

“I can’t hear you!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. Dude probably had his communications turned off. He was breaking so many protocols right now.

Maya used to call me an idiot, Foebe wondered. She should’ve seen this guy.

Foebe revved her engines and dashed in his direction, stopping just short of contact.

Rudy jumped off his seat in a fight-or-flight response and hit his head into the deck’s ceiling. “Creep!” From the looks of it, his headphones (not the heavy-duty headsets that come equipped with the suits but the ones he uses for music) saved him from injury but the impact also cracked the head-band in half. “Shit.” He took the phones off to inspect the damage. It turned it around and sideways with one hand and rubbed his head with the other. Man finally opened his comms: “Bro… ”

“Wear your lap-belt next time and don’t talk to me right after we’re done with patrol.” She booped him on the hood of his suit with her blade—it had cooled down—and walked past.

“I don’t know if patrol is over!” he said over the intercom now. “That’s why I asked. Makes sense, right? Sometimes you like to slash around and kick the dead bodies once the others run. How do I know?”

Silence.

Rudy turned his suit around slowly; it was a Bulk-unit, practically the antithesis of Mary’s Speed-unit, so it took him a few seconds to do a full one-eighty. “You’re buying me a… well, I don’t know what. I got spare headphones but I need a new mic. Like a proper one. You do that or I’m reporting you for friendly-fire.”

Foebe kept walking. The green mist all around them fogged the horizon. They were still kilometers away from the city. Two of the three suns had set already and in the light of the last, half-sunken star, the tall, ever-wide border of Pier Square City stood out like the edge of a dark forest. Just like in that one movie her sister loved to watch. What was it called now? The Thieves of… something … She couldn’t remember.

Rudy sighed in the intercom. “All good, man. Screw Rudy, am I right? Yeah, I’m the asshole.” He paused and then muttered, “Have your walk-off into the darkness while I spit out my valid complaints about all this bullshit, making me look like a freaking schizo. Man, you’re literally a bully.” Foebe heard a grinding of metals, followed by heavy, ground-shaking footsteps, slowly but surely catching up to her. “Like what if your sword hadn’t fully cooled down yet? They’d make me pay to fix the shell. Not you! … I mean, unless I reported you, which I wouldn’t actually do because I’m not a shit friend. You don’t consider these things.”

“Yeah,” said Mary. From time to time she let Rudy believe that he was the sane one. It helped him maintain a sense of control. All his ramblings also portrayed her as a freak to any batch-mate who overheard or eavesdropped into their conversations in the practice range or the cafeteria. She didn’t care as long as it meant they would leave her alone. “You ever watched Star Wars?” she asked, although she wasn’t yet sure why.

“I… Star--” Rudy fumbled. “Huh?” He was still trailing behind but in her mind’s eye, she could see his mouth gape. Making Rudy speechless was a tall, if not impossible task. She was the kind to take pride in a job well done; it even forced a smile out of her. She had always refused to talk about movies, no matter how much he irked her to do so. And goddamn, he irked her all the time. The reason for his insistence was this: her parents and her maternal grandparents were filmmakers, she mistakenly admitted to him once, although she never gave away their names.

Rudy collected himself with a soft cough and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, “Did you know that just before the old world ended, they were working on one last trilogy? They wanted to release all three movies on the same day: May the 4th.”

“I know,” said Foebe. “Days before the last generation-ship left. Some people who got invitations to previous flights chose not to leave on the off-chance that those rumors were true.”

“They weren’t rumors!’

“Yes, they were.”

Outraged and… maybe somewhat offended, Rudy pointed an accusatory finger at her: “You wish they were!”

She just shrugged her shoulders.

He remained quiet until he was fully caught up by her side. Then he spoke, “I heard that the director burned all the test cuts when D.A.N. denied her a pod in the ships.” He shook his head. “That’s a shame.”

“Okay,” she said, lips pursed. “Where did you hear it?”

“I mean, you didn’t even care, do--”

“I wanna know.”

“Alright, I read it somewhere.”

“In a book?” She set the suit on auto-pilot, crossed her arms and adjusted in her seat to turn and stare right at him.

He scratched his temple, either to pretend he was thinking, or to hide his face. If the latter were true, he had failed because she could see his teeth, exposed of cringe, and his eyes, which were locked onto the evening horizon: the suns, patches of green mist and the rays of electrical light leaking from the city still far, far away. Finally, he conceded, “No, not a book.”

“So?”

“A thread, Foebe!” he yelled, shedding any cover of pretense and embracing the cringe.

“Hm?”

He opened his arms like he’s trying to say what do you want from me?

“I mean…”

“The internet!” He raised his fists at the ceiling now. “Shit, is that what you want me to say?!”

“Well… yes.”

“God!”

“Long as it’s true, that is.”

He took a long breath, filling his lungs to the bottom and then some. “Yeah…” he muttered. “It’s true. I got it from the internet. I suck.”

Foebe took the helm again and faced forward. “That’s also a rumor.”

“Okay,” says he, eyes rolling, “just because it’s from a Sci-Fire post, it doesn’t make--”

“No, I know this one for a fact.”

Rudy chuckled, head shaking, amused at the audacity perhaps. But it slowly dropped into a frown. “Wait, you’re actually serious?”

She remained silent but her body betrayed an expression: her lips were sucked in, eyes narrowed and her head inclined forward and slightly to the right.

Rudy withdrew his hands off the control sticks, not bothering to activate auto-pilot, causing his suit to halt. Foebe stopped too, then swiftly turned around.

“Everything good?” she checked. The last sun had all but set. Floodlights would have to be out soon. That might attract attention from lurking mutants. Bright lights intrigue the creatures at long distance, just as much as it scares them close range.

“You just made that face.”

“What face?”

“The one you make when you’ve said too much” he explained.

“Rudy…” she called softly, like a mother. “We gotta go home.” The more they walked, the drier the sands were, free of the sea’s filthy influence but downing their pace noticeably. “We’re still kilometers away from border and the developers didn’t put wheels in these old things.”

“They should have,” he agreed under his breath and then loudly declared, “but well, too bad! I ain’t moving an inch until you spill everything you know about the last trilogy.”

“Suit yourself,” she hissed and walked off.

“Okay, fine, I’ll compromise. Just tell me how you’re so sure he didn’t burn the films.”

She went up a gear. The distance between them increased at much faster rate.

“Hey!” he called out without moving.

“Start walking.”

“Won’t.”

“At least turn off your suit then. You’re wasting D-fuel.”

“Nope,” said the stubborn son of a bitch.

She fully considered leaving him behind. That’d teach him, she thought, knowing full well that it wouldn’t. It got cold at night in the sands, especially during the month of Aquilary. Last time he had gotten sick, she had to nurse him back to health. So, she knew how bad it could get. Poor guy sniffled and sneezed so much that he couldn’t breathe through his nose without hurting and then sneezing even more. Although he later claimed that it wasn’t exactly the cold at all that made him ill.

He had been out practicing with his shield in the range; it was midnight in Austery! and he was wearing nothing but some shorts and bare minimum armor, so it’s half a miracle that he didn’t get injured. According to the logs, he got a near-perfect score in Dodge and Deflect mode three times in a row. “I was feeling it,” he was mumbling through coughs and sniffles. “For fifteen whole minutes, I was dodging and swerving around blasts like I was Messi or something! You had to see it, Foe.” What she did see was an armored figure curled up on her doorstep, trembling and burning up; he left his shield behind as his fingers couldn’t grip it anymore. He said he had broken his previous record by such a long shot, surpassing his own top gear at such an alarming rate, that it caused a physiological reaction… or something epic like that. Idiot … the biggest idiot she knew. He was also the closest thing to family she had left.

Sometimes family has to let family get away with murder, she remembered; it was something her mother used to say anytime Foebe got mad at her little sister.

She turned around and commanded the floodlights on, once again startling Rudy.

“Easy with that!” he yelled, covering his eyes.

As petulant as ever, she complained in her mind but remained composed. “I meant that she couldn’t have destroyed the films,” she began, “because they’d never been completed in the first place.”

“No!” he whined. “That’s not what you meant. You said you knew for a fact.”

“I know because I’ve seen the dailies from the first week of shooting.”

“Shut… the fridge,” he muttered in disbelief.

“That’s all they managed to film before the lead actors stopped showing up to set.” She waited for a reaction but Rudy had gone silent. She continued: “I’ve actually read Mika Quon’s personal diary. She gave it to her friend, an ancestor on my mother’s side, along with the daily tapes on a thumb-drive. Mika-kun had recast the leads with two lesser-known actors, the only ones who were still willing to act despite impending doom. Every day the set would be a little less crowded. Nevertheless, filming went on for another week or so, until the cinematographer offed himself in his trailer—the last straw that killed the production.”

“Do you still have the dailies?”

“No. My sister … Maya was the one who was into films. She adored Star Wars, so my mother transferred the dailies to her DAN-drive on her fourteenth birthday. I’ve only watched them because sometimes she’d force me, streaming it in our TV on full volume … I’ve never really talked about my sister before, have I?”

“That was the first time you mentioned her name.”

“In case you’re wondering if she still has the footage…” She felt her voice quiver for a split second there, so she muted her mic and paused to gather herself. She knew she could hide as a silhouette behind the blinding lights. Her voice was the only tell and if she managed to control it, Rudy would never know that she was tearing up.

“I’m sorry,” said Rudy, as if he was holding back a sob himself. Did he catch on?

“She doesn’t have the files,” Foebe closed her eyes and opened her mic, “because, well, she’s dead. The cops said she auto-euthanized. You know what that means, right?”

Metallic thumps. Rudy must have started moving.

“Means that her choker decomposed her body before the medics ever got there. Her DAN-drive was wiped as per protocol. It’s all gone. All the photographs she stored there. Her stories. The movies mom left her … The diary is still intact. Can’t wipe that one with a click. Although I wish mom hadn’t included it with the other gifts. This diary had entries too morbid for a fourteen-year old.”

The thumps became louder. Foebe wiped her eyes and looked up to see that Rudy was… running. Or at least trying to. His suit was massively heavy and so the momentum threw him into the sand. He got back up as quickly as he fell and began moving, gradually building up speed and then stumbling all the same. He was maybe ten meters away now. She turned the floodlights off because at this range it could hurt his eyes. Then she watched, dumbfounded, as Rudy crawled the rest of the distance. She could hear him sniffle over the comm.

I messed up, she thought. He’s gonna be sick again.

He reached her metal feet and held her frame to help himself get back up.

“Woah.” she grabbed her controllers to balance her mech, so that it didn’t fall over backwards, while also keeping an eye on the infrared-radar for signs of trouble.

As soon as Rudy was fully on his feet, he opened his arms. Those gigantic metal limbs were designed to crush the sturdiest of mutant bodies.

“Rudy?” She broke out in a sweat. While making the Speed-suits, the devs had to sacrifice considerably in terms of armor bulk and integrity to achieve maximum pace and acceleration, so Foebe would be dead in an instance. She typed a quick command on her developer console and was one pinky-clack away from hitting Enter and running the blade across the Bulk-suit’s core. Then she heard Rudy give out a sob. It broke her out of the fight response. She trembled, struck by the horror of what she was about to do, and watched as the Bulk-unit’s metal arms hugged her metal shell.

“I’m sorry,” said he. His hands were clearly shaking too because his suit was swaying about, barely keeping balance. “I shouldn’t have pushed you about the films. I knew you didn’t want to talk about your sister. I didn’t mean to make you sad but I did.”

“Hey!” Foebe hugged him back, in a sense. “I’m the one who brought up Star Wars, remember?”

Why did I bring it up? she wondered. And then it occurred to her, “Rudy? Remember Anakin from the older sagas?”

“… Yeah,” he muttered.

“I was thinking: for all the bitching that man did about sand—” She heard a distinct chuckle, breaking through his sniffles and sobs, and smiled. “… he never brought up the single most annoying thing: sands are hell to walk on!”  


Is this a review?


  

Comments



User avatar
39 Reviews

Points: 4284
Reviews: 39

Donate
Mon Jun 17, 2024 9:26 am
Isbah wrote a review...



Hi! I’m here to review this amazing work of yours. I’ll dive right in.

A living mesh of black flesh and goo lurched itself at Foebe. She dodged its attack and watched it fly past her.

The mesh spun mid-air to correct its course and launched itself right back at her. It smashed into her mecha-suit’s core, right below the cockpit.

The blow startled her but then muscle memory from a year of movement training kicked in: she used her side-stick controllers in perfect harmony, successfully keeping balance and staying on the suit’s metal feet. The impact still sent her about three meters backwards in the sand

This is a great way to began the story. When you start off with a lot of action, it makes the reader very interested. Also, the mention of her training and skill creates an awesome character. It’s also very realistic.
Foebe opened developer console on her display system. She typed a split-second input on her keyboard—it was attached to her lap-belt—and her right suit-arm unsheathed a sword; it was burning red. Her trained eyes tracked the mutant, it was already mid-attack, coming at her at the speed of a well-pitched baseball. She advanced her left foot, metal-core leaning toward her enemy, and swung the smoldering blade in her (suit’s) right hand in an arc—beginning from just behind her right shoulder, then meeting her left hand in a two-handed grip just above the suit’s bat-ear-like left antenna, ending in a sharp, diagonal slash

This is so detailed… I like how you describe every little thing, but maybe it could be made clearer? It gets kind of confusing.
The red sword met the blob’s amoeboid skin and evaporated it. Then it cut into and through its humanoid insides, ruthlessly slicing the creature in half. Every drop of blood that came into contact with the blade vaporized instantly. Steam miraged her view for a moment. Thankfully, a gust of onshore breeze cleared out the air. Foebe watched carefully as both halves of the creature splatted against the cold, grey sands of Psalmos Beach. Stomach acid and ebony intestines splashed everywhere; the blood and goo dirtied the suit’s legs, sections of the core and bottom half of the windshield.

I love this. It makes me connect with the world you’re creating because it gives graphic descriptions of one of its creature’s anatomy and structure. It gives life to the world.
“Pathetic,” she muttered. She pressed a button. This prompted the suit to rest its hands.

Protected by the suit’s heavy-shielding, she couldn’t feel a thing. The acid, the heating blood or the wet sand. And yet she could smell the familiar stench of raw Mutant-corpse. The windshield and the energy shield growing of her DAN-choker filtered and suppressed most of it but even the small amount of stink that snuck through was incredibly revolting.

Foebe moved forward, towards the shore. She didn’t want this dead, pathetic blob of meat to be her last victim this evening. She wanted a bigger prey. The smell kept her focused, motivated. She would kill until she puked and not even Rudy would be able to stop her

From the way she says “pathetic” and the way she’s ruthlessly prepared to kill, it gives the impression of a perfectionist and over achieving character. She also seems strong, and at the same time I’m getting the feeling that this same perfectionism is going to be the weakness of the character.
She found her next target, a taller, fatter mesh of a human and a rat. Down on all fours with its skinny tail writhing about like a baby snake. It was trying to escape into the Black Sea. The human-rat crawled, rolled and tumbled, struggling against the sand and its own pathological, damned physique. The legs on one side of this mutant was lengthier than its own body. On the other side, its limbs were shorter than a sheepdog’s dick.

One quick command into the keyboard and the suit-engines revved on like a Ferrari from the old world. She dashed forward, riding an awesome burst of speed, and—with a well-timed flick on her right-stick—managed to uppercut the creature with her weapon, at first contact severing its tail and then severing everything else. To her surprise, this one bled purple. She had witnessed mutant-blood colors other than black before but this was new and for whatever reason, more disgusting.

She looked around. The beach was filled with dead, useless meat. Most of the mutants had retreated and then mixed, or rather… dereified into the sea the moment she pulled her blade. All these creatures lacked proper hearing organs but made up in heightened vision. She reckoned that must be why her blade always forced the mutants onto back foot. That was the reason she drew it as last resort. It was no fun when the prey ran away

You’re describing the creatures in this world as ugly, and that seems to say something about the world. It also makes Foebe seem noble because she’s killing these creatures. But despite that, she enjoys it. “It was no fun when the prey ran away” shows that it gives her a burst of adrenaline, it’s more than a duty, it’s a game and a hobby for her. I’m also noticing that in this world, the natural creatures seem to be ugly and disgusting. Whereas, all the technology that she’s using is presented in a positive sense and that’s an opposite of how we normally see things.
“You done?” Rudy yelled out. His windshield was down. Foebe was used to the stench and the bitter salt in the air but it was as if this son of a bitch liked it. She had even heard a classroom rumor that his old-world ancestors were butchers by trade. That may as well be but Rudy could never be a butcher. He was too kind for that line of work. Or was it offensive to assume that butchers couldn’t be kind?

Dunno, she thought. I sure would’ve loved to ask one of them.

Too bad butchery was now an obsolete profession.

“Is it over?” Rudy yelled and waved at her.

“Yeah,” she said through the intercom.

“I can’t hear you!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. Dude probably had his communications turned off. He was breaking so many protocols right now.

Maya used to call me an idiot, Foebe wondered. She should’ve seen this guy

Rudy seems like a fun loving person, who is maybe a bit rebellious. He also seems like a risk taker.
“Yeah,” said Mary. From time to time she let Rudy believe that he was the sane one. It helped him maintain a sense of control. All his ramblings also portrayed her as a freak to any batch-mate who overheard or eavesdropped into their conversations in the practice range or the cafeteria. She didn’t care as long as it meant they would leave her alone. “You ever watched Star Wars?” she asked, although she wasn’t yet sure why.

“I… Star--” Rudy fumbled. “Huh?” He was still trailing behind but in her mind’s eye, she could see his mouth gape. Making Rudy speechless was a tall, if not impossible task. She was the kind to take pride in a job well done; it even forced a smile out of her. She had always refused to talk about movies, no matter how much he irked her to do so. And goddamn, he irked her all the time. The reason for his insistence was this: her parents and her maternal grandparents were filmmakers, she mistakenly admitted to him once, although she never gave away their names.

Foebe is an introverted, keeps to herself kind of person while Rudy is the opposite. I disagree with Ley. Her character doesn’t need to be described further because what she is, is a closed up person and that’s what’s being shown.
She fully considered leaving him behind. That’d teach him, she thought, knowing full well that it wouldn’t. It got cold at night in the sands, especially during the month of Aquilary. Last time he had gotten sick, she had to nurse him back to health. So, she knew how bad it could get. Poor guy sniffled and sneezed so much that he couldn’t breathe through his nose without hurting and then sneezing even more. Although he later claimed that it wasn’t exactly the cold at all that made him ill.

A new aspect of their friendship is explored. It shows the reader that Rudy is really close to Foebe. And when she starts the Star Wars topic, it makes me wonder if she’s starting to open up to someone.
Overall, it’s a really great story and I found it hard to give any critique at all. There are only a few things which I feel would work better changed. It’s an awesome start to your novel. Please continue writing this :)




User avatar
122 Reviews

Points: 10479
Reviews: 122

Donate
Wed Jun 12, 2024 1:46 am
View Likes
Ley wrote a review...



Image

Hello fellow writer! Ley here to write a tortoise-y review on this amazing work you've published! This is a new review style that I'm using only for the month of June, in spirit of the Great Tortoise Race! Let's get started, 'shell' we? xD

Shell Start: This is a super interesting story you got here! I did not expect the first scene to be Foebe mutilating this creature, or monster per-say, but you definitely caught my attention! So far, it seems like Foebe is the reckless and outgoing friend, whereas Rudy is the careful, caring one. Let's get into the details~

Favorite Leaf:

She advanced her left foot, metal-core leaning toward her enemy, and swung the smoldering blade in her (suit’s) right hand in an arc—beginning from just behind her right shoulder, then meeting her left hand in a two-handed grip just above the suit’s bat-ear-like left antenna, ending in a sharp, diagonal slash.

This beginning scene, especially the vivid imagery of Foebe killing this monster, was exceptionally well-written! I found myself thinking things like: wow, she's something and just left in awe at how skilled she is. I'm guessing this takes place in the future, hence the mention of advanced technology, so maybe she'd been training her whole life?

The thumps became louder. Foebe wiped her eyes and looked up to see that Rudy was… running. Or at least trying to. His suit was massively heavy and so the momentum threw him into the sand. He got back up as quickly as he fell and began moving, gradually building up speed and then stumbling all the same.

Once again, a great description here! it also gives us a bit more inside to who Rudy is. I just imaged this gigantic metal? suit running and thumping against the ground. I could see how it'd be a surprise to Foebe because the suit is probably insanely heavy, but I'm guessing these 'mutant' bodies are somewhat accustomed to adapt to this gear.

Shell Fractures:
I have one recommendation: We learned a lot about Rudy in this chapter, but not so much about Foebe. I'm guessing you had a reason for this, but I also would've liked to learn more about her background and how she's so good at what she does. We did however get a good taste of Foebe and Rudy's relationship here, though-- so thank you for that insight! :D

Overall: I can't wait to read the next chapter! The action scenes, themes, dialogue was spot on! I hope that next chapter we learn more about Foebe, so until next time my friend.

Thank you for taking the time to read this review! I hope to see you join the race, and keep being awesome! Happy Writing~

Image




MeherazulAzim16 says...


Thank you so much for this thoughtful review!




Life is like an onion. You peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.
— Carl Sandburg