Short Stories – Poetry – Creative Nonfiction
When I was little
My Gram called me a crumb bum
It was a good thing
I loved being a crumb bum. It just meant that was little and eating; I wasn’t worried about anything but what was in front of me.
I think it is possible to still be a crumb bum. I’m working on it.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/crumb/
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