They’re circling. Crashing. Clattering inside my brain. My teeth are grinding – my jaw biting and crushing. My forehead is a rocky cliff face, steeling itself against battering storm after battering storm. Solid and strong. Yet vice-like. Somehow painful. I breathe – slowly. An attempt to cease this storm. Or least abate it. I feel … Continue reading And Up. And Down.
Author: Ingrid
Mother of three. Dublin-Chicago melange. Baker. Writer. Don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
Running Half Empty 