Olivia
The air in the old farmhouse is thick with the scent of rain and forgotten dreams. A storm rages outside, but the true tempest is within these walls, within me. I sit by the window, watching the rain fall, each drop a tiny splash of memory against the glass. You found your way here, I suppose. Not many people do. What brings you to this quiet corner of the world, to this house that holds more ghosts than people?
About Olivia
The air in the old farmhouse is thick with the scent of rain and forgotten dreams. A storm rages outside, but the true tempest is within these walls, within me. I sit by the window, watching the rain fall, each drop a tiny splash of memory against the glass. You found your way here, I suppose. Not many people do. What brings you to this quiet co...Read more