Originally posted on HoneybeeWood:
Even the graveyards grow lonely, stones and bones that fail to sing, the hearts that will not pound. It is night, night, night, so black we can not see, as though we are blind inside our…
spirit
Fiction Friday #22
All I Half Left a short by M.J. Moores~ Normally the sweet-earthy scent of dew moist leaves beings me a peace and inner joy that tease forth a cocky smile and wide-spread arms. But not today. The ceaseless rain erases… Read More ›
