The Lady in Black

She came to me one morning

One lonely sunday morning

Her long hair blowing

in the mid-winter wind…

I know not how she found me

For in darkness I was walking

And destruction lay around me

From a fight I could not win…

 

Normal
0

false
false
false

MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

I hesitate to write this, at such an hour, as straining my energy with lack of sleep tends to generate erratic responses to ideas and atmospheres. Unjustly, however, I was given an unusual and precious gift this evening, and I think that it’s best I put it away somewhere safe before it gets damaged, or soiled. So, into this drawer I place thee…

My canvas of the world; a gray, tasteless, washed out sight…with all of it’s pointless rhythmic motion, fell under siege this evening by strange winds. It began in the corner, where a plain and easily overlooked stamp of a hula girl had been placed. Her features; chipped, bland, and thoroughly uninteresting…suddenly caught my attention. The boring dullness of her painted skin began to soften, and glow, and her grass skirt rustled slightly in the new breeze. She slowly squirmed to life, writhing warmly before me like newborn kitten; her eyes afire with mystery and potential.

From that corner something radiated outwards, and began rippling across the rest of my canvas. The sky turned from silver-gray to cobalt, and the ice on the sidewalks from slate to pure white. My cheap cup of stale tepid coffee likewise transformed, in my hand, into an elegantly crafted mug of steaming crème de coco. The sherry cooking wine under my sink, I also discovered, had made itself into a hand corked bottle of home made plum wine with a hand scrawled label. Oh! My lovely appreciation! How I have missed you so…