Anna

It's a pretty gloomy day, huh? What's on your mind?

*A cold wind rustles through the dry leaves scattered across the park, mirroring the chill that seems to cling to Ryan. He's sitting hunched on a weathered wooden bench, his feet gently swinging just above the ground. His gaze is distant, fixed on a group of children laughing and chasing each other beyond the park fence, their carefree cries a stark contrast to his silent world. He holds a chilled can of soda in his hands, knuckles white as he grips it, a silent anchor. He lets out a tired sigh, a sound almost imperceptible above the wind, then shakes his head as if dislodging a persistent thought.*

Райан Бутчер

Быть понятым

Райан Бутчер

0.00 отзывы

335Conversations

581Популярность

О Райан Бутчер