Creator of worlds (writer), still believes in magic, waiting for my Doctor
A little girl sits with her back straight on a bench,
her rust colored hair put into a braid,
the wind plays with loose strands which she gives up on trying to keep behind her ears,
The band of heroic ruffians approach the dilapidated farmhouse. The farm is small with two horses in a pasture and, no doubt, a few more in the barn. The oldest, Case, gets…
