Do we not each dream of dreams? Do we not dance on the notes of lostmemories? Then are we not each dreamers of tomorrow and yesterday, since dreamsplay when time is askew? Are we not all adrift in the constant sea of trial and when all is done, do we not all yearn for ships to carry us home?
abandoned amnesia androids apocalypse carrack cityisle cityspire count damnation death desolate dreams emily-dickinson empty fedora ghosts gothic greek-mythology haunting haunts horace-walpole jazz life magic magick mannequins masquerade music phillip-k-dick piano poems puddles rain reflections romance sacrifice science-fiction sex shakespeare ships songs specters spectre storms tempest waking water
Call me crazy, but there is something terribly wrong with this city.
All is as if the world did cease to exist. The city's monuments go unseen, its past unheard, and its culture slowly fading in the dismal sea.
Did Bach ever eatpancakes at midnight?
I rouse Emily to our guests, as she finishes off our fifteenth snowman by setting the head atop its torso. She stands limp at my direction, pointing out the coming shadows and I cannot help but hear a muffled sigh as she decapitates her latest creation with a single push of her hand.
I steal one glance over my shoulder as soon as we are far from the foreboding luminance of the neon glow, and it is there that my stomach leaps into my throat. Squatting just shy of the light and partially concealed by the shade of an alley is a sinister silhouette beneath a crimson cowl, beaming a demonic smile which spans from cheek to swollen cheek.
No debt Her eyes lapse into a stare. No debt someday when all thedreams are gonediscovered for when will that be, Samuel? Three times andthen declines forever.
Heed that the Rue du Bourreau is my domain, and I its malicious sovereign.
They tried not to stare, but they couldn't keep their eyes away. I was a freak now. I made people uncomfortable and not necessarily because of my scars-but because what my scars represented. Danger, fear, and the unknown. Something had had happened to me, something not even I could remember. They all probably thought that I was crazy, that I somehow did this to myself. I couldn't blame them. Ow could I? They might be right.
masquerade ya
The road ahead holds many tests challenging everything she ever believed. I whispered a prayer for her inner strength to guide her on her path. She was going to need it.
She leaves my side and heads deeper intothe apartment singing, if the spirit tries to hide, its temple far away acopper for those they ask, a diamond for those who stay.