Herein lies a story of gentle, deep, passionate, and neverending love. Herein lies a love strong enough to transcend lifetimes. Herein lies the love of dreams and of nightmares. Herein lies the love of a woman for a man.
Art is the language of the soul. Music is the voice. A story of life and loss in the early American South. -- This story is my own, featuring highs and lows. But I am unable to write the hard parts until I am able to treat them with the respect they deserve. Pending.
What felt like a nightmare appeared to be reality - a strange and warped version of it. When David Gibbs takes a day trip to the local forest preserve he finds himself haunted by something sinister.
If loneliness were a place, it would be the brick house on the hill. The two-story building is surrounded by trees so no living being can look inside. No living being wants to, anyway. People prefer to look up safely from downhill and whisper to each other about what could possibly be up there. Some like to speculate...
