“You pick up a book, and you read, and it makes you feel better,” he said, handing her a book. “It’s that easy.”
“But then sometimes you find between the pages a dried rose that turns to powder at touch, and you cry,” she sighed. “It’s called poetry, you know.”
Some of you may remember that a while back I used to publish 50-word stories. Here is a selection of some of my best. I also gathered them in a book – grab it on Amazon.uk or Amazon.us.
boy with a hat 
It is a great book, I still read it from time to time. It would be even greater if I could get my hands on a physical copy!
Happy to hear that. Perhaps one day. 🙂
So beautiful piece, a poetry!
Awaiting fulfilment of your wishes, ours as well
I will watch for your fifty word stories. This one is nice.
What you wrote here is touching ❤
The essence of what you’ve captured with your words is truly beautiful. The rose lingers in my mind, thank you. Please enjoy the rest of your week, take care. ~ Mia
Very lovely.