This is what I was. I was nothing; I was lost in the darkness. For a long time I was only the sharp bloom of agony, the rush of adrenalin, the light tingling of someone else’s movement against my skin. There was silence where I drifted and the quiet became vast in the shadows, it […]
When I was growing up I read books all the time but never dreamed I would write one myself. Books were my escape rather than my reality. I was a child who enjoyed school and my most inspirational teachers were those that taught English and shared my passion for people who existed both on paper and in the imagination.