I write a little bit of everything
Words are time capsules Tied to eras when spoken Boundless on the page
By Brianna Sanders3 years ago in Poets
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Megan peered out of her own cabin window, Cabin 205, the one she and her family rented the same weekend every summer.
By Brianna Sanders4 years ago in Horror
