She felt the heat of the sand beneath her feet and thought about how simple everything used to be.
She had a home, a comfortable bed, enough to eat and drink – everything she needed. And she had thrown it all away for an illusion. For a man who wielded charm like a blade, concealing the monster within.
Sometimes things don’t work out the way we want to. I loved the painting so far but when I started to add in details, I messed it up.
That’s how it started. A friend mentioned it to me, kidding because my car was full of plants. But somehow his words stuck with me. It felt like there was a story that wanted to be told. It took me months to decide on the genre and even longer until I had a faint idea of the story. But over time it slowly evolved and I started writing on „The wandering garden“.