Wild Child By A. Klesath

As the sun rose to greet her, she smiled.

She could feel the power of the muse,  as the sun warmed her spirit.

The beginning of an idea spiraling, spinning, satiating.

Frantic to put pen to paper as the story unfolded inside her,

Ecstatic,  to have the wild child come alive from the depths of her soul

And so it began . . .

 

 

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