An ornate and gold-edged book, of which inside are secrets even she doesn't know or understand. But tucked all through it are leaflets of paper, as if she'd rather not write in the book its self. Except on the first empty page of the book is written in exquisite, flowing penmanship her full name. ~ Lavender Cecelia Morgan.
Thursday, 17 December 2020
Seems I can not out run the loneliness no matter where I go. The good thing is at least I feel wanted here.