Isabella
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NumbA Story by IsabellaWhat is there to do when there is nothing to do. But there is, here on this street corner. When there is nothing to do, there is always.. |
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SpeckA Story by IsabellaWe tugged at our kites. We had made them ourselves, collecting spare change we found on streets and saving the coins in a porcelain p.. |
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TearsA Poem by IsabellaA gray towel hangs from the line. The string twinges as drops of soap hit the concrete floor. |
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