Regan Gallagher

“Iron bars cut the moon’s naked skin. The cracked bone, brittle and aging, couldn’t find any light, and so the trees were silent. On the opposite end of the horizon, a silent neighbor flickered gently. A whisper. It was unclouded and bright, like a mind in its infancy, exuding a peace that Vincent envied.”
― Mieke Leenders

“Night was close. Black trees towered over the dimly lit horizon like cloaked guardians. The winds rocked their crown and their heads tilted, like a nod, begging him over. He wanted to join them. Desperately. He longed for a friend as precious and pure. With the next gust of wind, their bodies seemed to grow, arching over the slumbering town, watching like a curious visitor. There was nobody outside, but some homes were still lit. A tiny speck of brightness that broke the trees’ black figures with an orange hue forming near the roots. The winds jerked and pulled, and for a moment, it looked like their roots were a prison. And that even comfort, nourishment, life itself, was worth escaping.”
― Mieke Leenders

“Whenever we finish a conversation i'm somewhere between entertained and traumatized.”
― Fanny Badger Wadger Snookie Pumpums