FWJ # 7 '...They were only half open and heavy, but her eyelids still made each blink seem effortless. She'd woken up late after the weirdest dream...'
Writing Journal 12/01/18
FWJ #5 '..But in quiet moments his compulsion is not to count. In quiet moments he flicks the tips of each finger on his left hand, as fast as he can...'
Writing Journal 11/01/18
FWJ #4 '..A memory of light, and love, and happiness. But that light burned out a long time ago, taking the love with it, and slowly seeping out the happiness, pulling it down into its ash filled crater...'
One queer story at a time... 