I hear the wind before it hits me, after a day of rain it comes in strong shaking the building I am in. I sigh as I lookout the window through the darkness, I sense it's whispers, years of secrets I could never crack. Not my story to share.
“I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.” – Joan Didion
I hear the wind before it hits me, after a day of rain it comes in strong shaking the building I am in. I sigh as I lookout the window through the darkness, I sense it's whispers, years of secrets I could never crack. Not my story to share.