Danya Courtliff
The paper was blank. It shouldn’t have been. There should have been writing on the paper, at least a paragraph if not more. The fact that the writing wasn’t there was frustrating. Actually, it was even more than frustrating. It was downright distressing.
He heard the song coming from a distance, lightly floating over the air to his ears. Although it was soft and calming, he was wary. It seemed a little too soft and a little too calming for everything that was going on. He wanted it to be nothing more than beautiful music coming from the innocent and pure joy of singing, but in the back of his mind, he knew it was likely some type of trap.
