Quiet—not like a tomb, but a beginning.
Like a lock clicking in a latch
Like a key that only I have
Like breathing air without rules
I stuck my fingers between the blinds to see trees
I left the spoon in the sink after ice cream
Quiet—like mine.

Molly Zang has always loved the escape of a good story, especially with a cup of tea or coffee. She likes to write from real life and likes to read fantasy the best. She loves cozy days surrounded by blankets and cats and her favorite person in the world, her husband.