The pink bedsheet with the blue roses screams to be freed from the crisp grasp of the of the wooden cot holding on tight to its edges, but pull at it and it crumples into a heap of cloth, kaput.
The pink bedsheet with the blue roses screams to be freed from the crisp grasp of the of the wooden cot holding on tight to its edges, but pull at it and it crumples into a heap of cloth, kaput.