Huba Huba

United States

Writer, poet, musician, wanna-be-botanist.
Sleep deprived.
Call me a monster, I put milk in before the cereal.
I'm probably eating ramen right now or having a mental breakdown.
Imagine having an aesthetic bio
Joined: May 26, 2020

Message from Writer

Please read my work and tell me about your opinions.
I'd love to make some writing friends on this platform, let's help each other!
PHEwwww that sounded cheesy, but I meant it.


August 22, 2020


The doorbell rang. 
I dragged myself and the bird nest sitting at the top of my head over to the door. The same quarantine days have included me having a mental breakdown every once in a while, and forgetting how to participate on a normal day of interacting with humans other than myself, my family, and my friends that I'd bother to call. If the doorbell rings, it's either an advertisement or a delivery. 
I open the door and a ray of sunshine comes through. Is the source of the sunlight the sun? Of course NOT. The ray comes from a lady's smile, whereas the edges of her eyes are wrinkled and her lips are stretched to the side. In her hands sit a bouquet of flowers. 
Perhaps they'd look beautiful to any normal person, but I've never really understood why anyone would waste their money on them. You cannot eat them, you cannot drink them, nor do they have any use. While they may work well as decorations, I find them too temporary. 
But flowers always arrive when something big happens. Like when a soldier must sacrifice his safety and well-being to go to war, when 


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1 Comment
  • rainydayz

    i’m dying to here that rest of this. i love the story so far and i relate to the lines about spending money on flowers so hard. i too have been trying to make friends on here but i never know what to say lol.

    about 1 year ago