In the morgue it was cold her finger tips felt numb and the smell of formaldehydehad invaded her nostrilsrather than stop she worked through the night as she had on the nights that had come before. Tonight the cold had begun to slow herforcing the blood to thicken inside herand in this spot she workedthereContinue reading “The shadowy figure in the corner.”
I’m prone to bouts of anger, short tempered, the overly sensitive type. Writing is a way to make sense of it all. While art is a way in which I can escape the thoughts that haunt me shutting off conscious thought and allowing my hands to guide me.
Temperamentally Tina 