beds
One day, after many weeks of loud talking, Helen packed a bag and slammed the front door and never came back.
I don’t know why. I never know the why of humans.
That night, I slept with Mack in his bed.
My old nests were woven of leaves and sticks and shaped like his bathtub, cool green cocoons.
Mack’s bed, like mine, was flat, hot, without sticks or stars.
Still, he made a sleeping sound like the rumble my father used to make when all was well, a sound from deep inside his belly.
ТЕЛЕГРАМКанал с обзорами, анонсами новинок и книжными подборками
Книжный Вестник
Бот для удобного поиска и скачивания книг
Книжный Бот
Свежие любовные романы в удобных форматах
Любовные романы
О психологии, саморазвитии и личностном росте
Саморазвитие
Детективы и триллеры, все новинки
Детективы
Фантастика и фэнтези, все новинки
Фантастика
ВКОНТАКТЕ
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