Even The Clocks Stopped
Honoring a promise is harder than we realise, but it is a necessary tool in the healing process.
The rickety old porch swing creaks under my weight as I rock myself gently to and fro. The sound comforts me as it rips harshly into the painful silence of the night. A nerve-numbing tingle spreading through me from the hard wooden slats reminds me of just how long the drive up here was. I shift uneasily, my hand wrapped protectively around the brass key that will unlock the door to a place that used to feel like home. I...
