Writing updates, short and sometimes odd.
Often with pictures.
NEVER with spoilers.
If you want to go back to the beginning:
Two people might be dead.
The paths were less used here. It was quiet. Too quiet. No birdsong, no rustling in the deep carpet of pine needles. Everything seemed wrong. Her hopes felt too big for her body. Her fears were sharp and close.
|pic taken by Roxyanne Young, friend and author|
“Yes,” I whispered back, and it was the truest thing I had said in a long time.
“I can show you the way out,” he said quietly. Then, after a hesitation, he said this: “I have to get back to my parents, too.”
I quieted my breath, trying to think. Parents? Was he real?