Brooklyn born, “camping virgin,” asked to sleep under the stars. Sleep comes slow, I’m being tickled by whiskers and soft nose. Kisses, pinch on the cheek, left alone. Dog barks, plume of skunk smell.
Posted on Thursday, 12 July 2012
EVERYONE HAS A STORY
SUBMIT YOUR STORY HERE
CURRENT THEME:
"MISSION IMPOSSIBLE" in up to 30 words
Here at First Person Arts we love first person storytelling, and we want to hear from you. SEND us YOUR story based around our themes. You can send us your story in a variety of mediums: text, video, or picture!
READ OUR STORY HERE
FIRSTPERSONARTS.ORG
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TWITTER
CURRENT THEME:
"MISSION IMPOSSIBLE" in up to 30 words
Here at First Person Arts we love first person storytelling, and we want to hear from you. SEND us YOUR story based around our themes. You can send us your story in a variety of mediums: text, video, or picture!
READ OUR STORY HERE
FIRSTPERSONARTS.ORG
Ask Us Anything Submit Your Story
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