I had no genuine friendships, bar one. His name was Abraham. My parents dubbed him imaginary and dismissed me. He may have been invisible, but he was real to me. So I proved it. Flour dusted on the floor made my parents angry. Then they saw footprints forming in the particulate.

Zachary Seda

Love creating my own universe. I write short stories and post them weekly. Use this link to be a member on Medium: https://zacharyseda.medium.com/membership

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