A breeze blows up, touching my cheek like a little child’s kiss. It flutters a piece of paper. Trash, out there? Must belong to one of us. We move closer, and when I reached for it, I find…… a perfect paper airplane.
Author: Ellen Hopkins
A breeze blows up, touching my cheek like a little child’s kiss. It flutters a piece of paper. Trash, out there? Must belong to one of us. We move closer, and when I reached for it, I find…… a perfect paper airplane.