Switch

Switch By Jhennel The lighting was crying on a foggy night. In our Mandalay apartment, I sit there in front of the window asking myself when it's gonna be over. The odor of the wet grass, sliding in from the open window, hovering around the room. The grass was slouching on the soaking wet soil, the plants cowered over like every teenager on their phones. But I was warm and cozy, The yummy smells of my mom’s cooking floats in from heaven I see my old bed sheets creased as my sit turns into a lay.