What follows is a very rough, unedited blurb of a stream-of-consciousness writing from my journal. Enjoy. She walked through a patch of grass ankle deep into the pine forests. Around her, the smell of daffodils and pollen swept through the air. All around green trees stood proudly in the earth. Her...
daydreams
“a movable feast”
Open the old wooden doors and step out into the street. Looking up at the charming old buildings with green shuddered windows, clothing hanging out to dry below them. The red tiled Tuscan roofs reflecting the sunshine that begs to break through the midday clouds. Taking a right from...