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Read More𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓝𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱𝓮𝔃 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓸𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓲𝓵 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽. 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼, 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓾𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓹-𝓼𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼. 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓭𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮...
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Atticus Abbey wrote a new post
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Read MoreThe stones of the abbey, cold and still.A shrouded shadow moves, unseen, unheard.Holding secrets deep, upon a lonely hill.Where once the holy, now the lost are stirred. The bells are silent, their song forever done.Where peace is broken, and no...
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Thank you, Brenda.
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Atticus Abbey wrote a new post
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Read MoreThe door creaked, a complaint from a throat that had seen too many winters. A kind of chill that went straight to the marrow, a cold spot, drop in the air. With a sliver of moonlight, thin as a...
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Atticus Abbey wrote a new post
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Read More...the dust of ghosts now motes of quiet memoryof what came before that the sun illuminatesfor just a moment until the world settlesinto haunting notes
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Atticus Abbey wrote a new post
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Read MoreLetting the good times roll, awakening, out of the ground. It wasn't a tulip, but a mangy dame with a buffet buried in Kentucky Blue Grass. Clawing her way out of the grave-yard grim on a bad road covered...
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hello dearest Adagio I can feel the dreaded chill great write ❤️