Tina Bell Vance

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Penance Wind

A broken window frames the crumbling ruins of an old homestead. The wind seems to howl through the tattered fabric hanging like ghosts from the rafters. Trees claw at the sky outside, barren and bleak, a reminder of what was lost. Inside, the shadows are deep and dark, carrying the weight of stories that never found an ending—only echoes.

Signs of Life — Penance Wind

A broken window frames the crumbling ruins of an old homestead. The wind seems to howl through the tattered fabric hanging like ghosts from the rafters. Trees claw at the sky outside, barren and bleak, a reminder of what was lost. Inside, the shadows are deep and dark, carrying the weight of stories that never found an ending—only echoes.