|
The vine withers on this wheel, movement hindered by time. Before the terrace spindles rot the paint faded to a failed tomorrow. The porch floor creak..
|
|
Working a my prose and story lines. I've never worked on these before so if it's bland and lifeless there's one reason why. :)
|
|
This is a work in progress, please disregard any inconsistencies and or errors you may find.
|
11
next
last