Hmmm. It Says Here On That Map, That About Three Miles Back, We Died Of Starvation

Hmmm. It says here on that map, that about three miles back, we died of starvation

i love characters who could get the absolute Shit kicked out of them and still be fine but as soon as someone touches/handles them gently it’s like “ah. im going to shatter to pieces now thanks”

day one complete !!

The stained glass bleeds colour over my dull life. Sitting in a pew, arms crossed over my chest, legs resting on the top of the pew in front of me, ignoring the stares from the proper religious. I’ve not been to this cathedral yet. It’s a new place to haunt.

The architecture is beautiful. It’s old, gothic, something to treasure until the end of time. We likely won’t go back to this style ever again, but I can hope and dream. The way the stone looks as if it could crumble at any moment, yet still feel secure. The way the numerous engravings, windows, statues, and archways feel perfect in the way they are placed. The way it all comes together to make a place of worship and prayer. It’s both comforting and beautiful. It could even be bittersweet, if I still cared about my days in the orphanage.

“Excuse me, Miss? You don’t seem like you’re praying. Are you all right?”

It’s a man, maybe a priest or whatever they’re called. I’m grateful to be in the middle of the pew, I think I’d bolt if he was standing above me. I don’t pay attention to his appearance and instead look back up at the ceiling.

“Miss?” he tries again. I turn my head and look at him.

“Do churches still offer sanctuary or that a thing we left in the 1500s?”

“Uh, I think it’s a traditional thing now. I don’t believe it has any legal standings. Why? Are you running from something?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“I’ve heard a lot of crazy things in my time. And the pin on your jacket says your a ghost hunter, so I assume your life is pretty interesting. I’ll believe anything.”

“Hm.” I look down at my jacket and see the Grimm Crew ghost hunting pin. It’s the only pin I kept from my old jacket. It’s the only one that really mattered. The rest are with the old worn down leather jacket and Edith. The new one is barely broken in and feels stiff. It’s weird and new and fits the feeling of the world right now.

“May I sit down?” he asks with caution.

“Do whatever you want, man. I won’t stop you.”

300 words for the first day !! :DD

made my own october thing for this year !! very excited

I hemmed and hawed over making this post but in the end I suppose I must. For understandable reasons, I keep details about my life private other than a few vent posts here and there but I am in a vulnerable situation. Probably the most vulnerable I've been in years.

As noted above, I am in uncertain employment (a fixed term contract) and living in unstable conditions. It has reached a point where I am seriously looking into fleeing my house because I am not safe. I don't feel comfortable going into details but my story isn't much so different from other instances of black women suffering in silence. I am not asking you to help me survive because I have done that on my own so far and I intend to keep doing so. However, in surviving, I will have to make sacrifices and publishing the rest of my books will likely be one of them.

If you have any care at all for my series and want to see it continue, it would mean the world to me if you would donate towards this ko-fi goal. As mentioned, I will make a note of every donator and gift them a free ebook of the books in the trilogy personally and if we surpass the goal I will look into giving you something else, should funding permit.

If you cannot donate but would still like to support me then promoting my books any way you can would do a lot to help garner interest and hopefully even put money in my pocket.

Thank you for reading this post to the end.

REBLOG if you have amazing, talented WRITER friends.

Because I certainly do, and I love every single one of them and their work.

Happy october 3rd!✨