Mr Frosty


There was a time when I heard nothing.

Nothing.

Not the croaking of tree frogs screaming over and over again.  The rustling of leaves scratching at the street as they made their escape from one lawn to the other.  Not even the screech of some far off car escaping from something or trying to make its way home after some night shift.

None of it.

Nothing.

Only the quiet dead movement of blistering hot Summer air.





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)