Letting Life Lead
Dust assaulted. Two horses in braided, bit-less bridles hung head to hoof. Riders pulled brims low, bandanas high, and duster collars straight.
“You’re barkin’ at knots.”
The other dug, found the panel, placed her hand upon the biolock and said, “Balls out.”
The place where all the things I write live
Writer and procrastinator
Warden of Words // Shaper of Stories
Bewitching Journey of Words to Meaning
This is the story of building a cottage , the people and the place. Its a reminder of hope and love.
The 24 hour Writing Hotspot and Hang Out
Just your average PhD student using the internet to enhance their CV
Every now and then my head is racing with thoughts so I put pen to paper
Vulnerable on main