USA | Wednesday, 27 May 2015 | Views [93] | Scholarship Entry
Garlic. Spice. Salt. The burning, acrid taste of ice on the tongue. I clutched the damp paper bag close to my chest. Grease trickled down my elbow as I tore chunks from the pizza slab, and crammed them into my mouth. I tiptoed up to a crowded park bench.... Read more >
Tags: 2015 Writing Scholarship
