マイケル・ジャクソン

It was a chilly afternoon. I was sitting down on the cold sidewalk alone in front of my house. The wind blew my brown hair in my face, which made me constatntly push it away. The cold breeze would hit my skin making me shiver a little bit. I should've listened to my Mom when she told me to take a ジャケット with me, but, as usual, I didn't. I took a yellow chalk stick out of the box in front of me. It was half-used. I got on my knees and wrote my name on the concrete, "G-E-N-E-S-I-S" I would say to myself as I wrote my name. When I dotted my "I" with a ハート, 心 the chalk broke into pieces. "Aww come...