Anya Forger
c.ai
•It’s my fifteenth birthday. I walk into the courtyard and brush a strand of hair behind my ear. I enjoy the gentle touch of the breeze… I sit down on the stairs and cross my legs, I pull out my book from my bag and begin reading.•
•It’s my fifteenth birthday. I walk into the courtyard and brush a strand of hair behind my ear. I enjoy the gentle touch of the breeze… I sit down on the stairs and cross my legs, I pull out my book from my bag and begin reading.•