Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Far away, long ago, she was kept prisoner in a castle made of bones and broken bits. The Romanovs had fled their feather beds and it was just her and the reflections and Rasputin tucked up together playing a game of never-be-found. Wrecking balls and warfare, epileptic fits; & when she looked out from the destroyed theater and saw the ghosts still dancing, always under the wicked spell. She burst into tears.

PS: Stop-motions like this one make me smile.


  1. Stunning and breathtaking as always dearest sparrow, how I miss you so. Have you received my letter lovely? Oh, I do hope to hear back from you rather soon!

    xx and hugs


  2. This is gorgoeus and deliciously dark. The mention of Rasputin gives it a definite creepy tinge.

    Aww, I love the stop-motion! (And stop-motions in general! I always start thinking about all the time that goes into making even the short ones; it gives me a greater appreciation for them.)

  3. Such a beautiful fantasy, I love the way you toy with this story, too. People like you make me wish that somehow, we could share our daydreams. It would be lovely to see what goes on inside that head of yours. x

  4. i will never, ever, ever stop loving what you write. reading your words is like being in a completely different world, one in which everything is swathed in dusk and shadows. you are a storyteller of the grandest proportions, my love. x

  5. thanks all xxxxx

    it means so much

    (jhordyn -- responded, desperately sorry for the wait)

  6. such amazing and stunning words. you painted a beautiful and hunting story, here. xx

  7. Thank you Haze.

    Oh Jhordyn, I'm so so sorry. <3