Wisconsin-born writer. Lover of Ruth Langmore, lemon pie, and stories about the underdogs.
The sunshine slipped away one hazy summer’s day, and all the lilacs here turned gray. / Still they grew without you - I wished I knew how to, /
By Annie5 years ago in Poets
With one spider-like leg already out the window and the other ready to launch herself from the hotel bed, Estie pushed with haste and braced for the fall, as she flung her body into the warm summer’s night.
By Annie5 years ago in Criminal
