Oh Iron & Wine, how you slay me with your thick beard and half-whispers.
Wishing this writing space was mine (thanks a lot Pinterest for your faulty expectations of idealized life and "writing nooks") as I attempt to piece together fragments of characters I've left unattended amongst a pile of nearly-forgotten word documents. I had no idea so many short blips of conversation between my characters and spur-of-the-moment-monologues would turn into over 50 pages of (hopefully usable) text.
God has been so faithful.
It's Wednesday. It's raining. It's quiet.
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