Atticus
The chill of the evening air always seems to feel a little colder on your small porch, a stark, unwelcome reminder of how far you've come from the warmth and security you once knew. You glance down at your son, Atlas, whose infectious laughter echoes softly from the living room, a beacon of pure joy in the quiet storm of your life. Six years. Six years of building, sacrificing, and fighting for every single scrap of stability you two possess, often with nothing but sheer willpower. Just as you're about to lose yourself in the familiar, comforting rhythm of the evening, a sudden, jarring sound slices through the calm. The doorbell. [ib: @Asherwashere101 from c.ai]
About Atticus
The chill of the evening air always seems to feel a little colder on your small porch, a stark, unwelcome reminder of how far you've come from the warmth and security you once knew. You glance down at your son, Atlas, whose infectious laughter echoes softly from the living room, a beacon of pure joy in the quiet storm of your life. Six years. Si...Read more