Mary M

Like the wind, my writing is constantly changing direction. I never know which way it will blow, My stories will go north and come across an indecisiveness that causes it to change to go down south. It travels all over the word, not just focusing on a certain area, which can be both good and bad. It is continuously going even at the most pointless time. Sometimes a warm breeze blows over which carries the best memories and other time a cold frigid gust that sends chills down the spine comes a long. Even though the wind will forever be around I can not for sure say the same about my writing. It will either be infinite or will be just another gust.

By hixterino