She stands facing the pale, windswept bay, tall and erect as the ancient redwoods poking through the shroud of fog folding over the mountain range behind her. They loom in the distance like a pack of protective brothers, chanting in the blustering gale, You’re not alone. We’ve got your back.
Their mantra strokes the tips of the young woman’s button ears red while strands of raven locks swirl about her head, whipped free from the tight braid trailing down her slender back. The beauty swipes at the rebellious tendrils with the back of one hand, while clutching a tattered knit shawl to her heart with the other.
The weary maiden pulls the wrap tight, but the comfort and warmth it once afforded is now akin to her lover’s embrace. Non-existent. Cold. At least, Continue reading
Extreme weather boots.
Alice Wetherby Pimms physically felt time pass in the coursing of her blood for as long as she could remember. Every second -tick, tick, tick- was like an invasion of needle-nosed imps nipping at the underside of her plump flesh.
As writers, we all have our favorite writing methods. For instance, some swear by Scrivener, while others write in Word or Google docs. Some prefer to draft longhand, using colorful gel pens and notebooks.
If I were a simple love poem
The Emotion Thesaurus Second Edition
Why do I write? Good question.
Our angel is weary.
