Not the place to argue driving in a car. A fatal mistake! The Fouryed Poet.

A poignant recollection of heartbreak.

On my heart’s door.

Waiting for a lift in the snow by a traffic light.

Say what you need to say. As soon as possible. Before it’s too late. (My first short story ever)

Traffic light.

Traffic light.

I still find it hard to understand why there are so many of us who refuse to interact with anyone else. This disconnection is what will tear us apart.
-A.N.Trani.

This is a short story about my pet peeve: when I am a passenger in a car and the driver stops when the light is yellow instead of trying to make it through.

This is a shot poem. The topic is love.