The cross atop the steeple casts a shadow upon her frail body as she waits with trembling hands and sullen eyes. The church bells sound; patrons file out. She pleads with them for help – food, water – but all she gets is silence.
Decades of her words.
Unfolding From the Fog (or What I Think About When I Walk My Dog)
Try. Try again.
"Not all those who wander are lost." - J. R. R. Tolkien
Short stories and general observations about the world of writing.
Crochet inspiration and design from Sweden
A collection of stories & poems
Mind the Glitches