Writer. Wordsmith. Poet. Obsessed with all things hedgehog. The beauty of the story is in the journey, not the arrival.
You don’t see it on my face
It’s not in the space usually looked for.
It’s in the words,
It’s about terror.
It’s about being the thing under the bed. The monster in the closet.
The footsteps behind you at night.
where the air is soft and the garden shadowed,
and the perfume changes with the direction of the wind.