The young woman wears her emotions outward, while the Witch swallows hers down like the most horrible tonic. The Witch helps where she is able, all while trying to learn the young woman's part. But every time they're swallowed down, glass littering the floor.
Her mouth turned up in a most beautiful smile, eyes of sorrow, plumes of autumn fire framing her face. I recognize her in an instant, wanting to reach out and reconnect. But our connection is so strained, searing with pain. The sorrow we share, make the best. Be well.
In a daze, the wall connects with my temples. Vision wobbles, wanting to turn black. Swallow the black swill, it's your only hope.
When people opt to do the bad thing, there are those who counter with the good, there are those who let it pass, and there are those who follow. The easier route is often the route to cause the most pain long term and the hardest route usually resolves the problem immediately. Why did she … Continue reading Choices