seven

Snowing once more. Sometimes i know it’ll never stop, just leave the world white and washed out. The earth and sky inseparable and united, finally, once again, just like when mother Terra met father Sky and created everything in an explosion billions of years ago.

I need to write two stories by the weekend and then i’ve one more sitting in me that needs to get out. It’s weird for me to have deadlines for writing because i never thought anyone would ever actually encourage this disease, for surely it is one, to think the words you type are worthy for the masses. But, yeah, really need to get on that.