My Blue Mosaic Heart (Short Story)
My heart is blue. Not because it is prone to grief, or melancholy, but because it has been beaten up to a pulp. My heart is in pieces. Not because it is so ridged, or brittle, that it keeps getting broken, but because it is a maximum security prison. An illegal detention facility. My heart is a prison where you get sentenced to life, without … Continue reading My Blue Mosaic Heart (Short Story)

