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witcherdashery

Fashionably wicked.

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witcherdashery

I want to write a book that goes down like a shot of flaming absinthe.

25

We rode through the desert, faces covered, while the swirling sand breathed secrets into our ears.

15

I might never be able to understand how people can go out on Fridays.

After a week's work, all I want to do is wrap myself in silence.

11

She skipped slowly by, holding a green crayon against the glass wall, creating mountains and valleys in the imagination.

14

I write but I falter and lose faith because I haven't figured out my voice.

But I will keep trying.

14

The lost art of doing only one thing at a time.

10

When I stand on the overpass I can hear the city sighing under the weight of our frenzied existence.

12

Tonight's guests: a sore back, cookies I shouldn't eat, and feelings I don't have names for.

10

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