Vicky | creativewriting

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Red, green, yellow,
The branches of the trees reach out to the sky...

“Hi Ms. Jung, have a seat”
“Can I get out of these handcuffs? I’m not going to do anything.. I promise...”

I met up with my friends and started to walk down to the cafeteria. I didn’t have to look at the menu to see what today’s menu was going to be because it was always the same: a mix of whatever was left from yesterday’s lunch...