Writer on the Oregon coast. Lover of nature, poetry, and coffee! I love to write about my travels, lovers + mental health. Thanks for your support! Feel free to browse, share, and comment away. :)
It's been 350,400 minutes
Well, hello. It's been a minute. Actually, it's been 350,400 minutes. First, let me say that I didn't take a writing break. In fact, I published two books (one novella and one poetry collection) since I've been away for the past eight months. I have also started screenwriting, which has been a complete joy. I took a break from writing for you. I took a break from writing for anyone. Mostly, I took a break from the pressure of this website. The word limits. Challenges. All of it. I have been writing for fun.
The March of The Bells
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Like the strike of a match, the sky lit up brilliantly with violet—Her most cherished color. Of course, it was Ginger Lee's favorite time of day—especially in Lindsonton during the March of The Bells. The bells on her shoes would tap through the blue herb garden leading to the mossy stairs of the Brown House. The moon glowed yellow as it was full today and she let the light guide her. The smell of damp wood fueled her journey up the stairs until she reached the golden knob of the Brown Door. She knocked, and the door opened quietly. No questions asked—never at midnight during the March!