life starts with numbers, pressed against the back of your mind, clear as processed day.

starts with small memories. your mother, smiling serenly, hand atop your hair. your father, broad shoulders hitting against sunlight. hair sprawling against your back, peeking out from your hat. fights, when they think that you're asleep, hiding behind the ( Read more... )

That I will probably use this as a journal for icons/banners and stuff like that. Maybe even photography escapades. But not fic. Well maybe fic. It's still under construction.