dreams
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With every second that passed the pain grew worse and worse; she was unable to blink, unable to rub at her eyes, unable to scream. A quiet murmur rose from the forest’s moss floor, getting louder and louder in a cacophonous crescendo as the tall, dark trees closed her in…
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Uncertain. Plan for Dreams. Awake, fatigued out slow. Remembered, forgot. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021 *This marks the 300th post on the website, seems like only yesterday. Hope it’s been enjoyable so far! Much love, Giuseppe Gillespie. Watch this space.
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Somewhere, watching the sunset through the vast black void, these eyes open wide. Giuseppe Gillespie – November 2021
Giuseppe Gillespie Writing 