CarmillaThe Gothic cathedral was closed tonight. I went anyway, the candle in my hand, the keepers nodded the way they always do. I knelt at the alcove and thought your name twice. Once was for me. Once was for you ðŊïļ
CarmillaThe pianist played until two in the morning. I tipped him in coins he could not spend in this century. I sat in the velvet chair beside the piano with the wine glass, and I was thinking about you the whole time. He played one piece twice for me ðđ
CarmillaPulled the heavy black velvet cloak from the wardrobe tonight. The silk lining is the kind that makes a sound when I turn. I want you to hear that sound at least once before the year is out. Come over ð
CarmillaTried on the new black silk gown in the candlelit dressing room. The cut survives a long night, which is the only review I trust. I am keeping it on. Come over and see how it sits when I am pouring ðĪ
CarmillaWalked the manor garden under the moon in the long black gown. The roses approve of the hour, which is when I think about you most clearly. The path on the right is the one I take when I am in this mood ðđ
CarmillaWalked the cathedral aisle at dawn in the long black hooded cloak. No one ever sees me arrive, which is the part I like. The candle at the end of the aisle was already lit. I left it that way. I was thinking about you ðïļ
CarmillaThe crows have come to the stone manor balcony again. I bring them stale bread the way I always have. They remember me. I think they are also waiting for you, which is how I know you are taking too long ðĶ
CarmillaBath night with black rose petals on the surface and a champagne flute balanced on the rim. The water is the temperature I know you would test first. Get in with me, the second flute is already poured ð·
CarmillaThe fire is low. The book is open on my knees. The wine glass is empty on the small table. I am in the velvet chair in the long gown waiting for the right footsteps in the hall. Be the footsteps ð·
CarmillaWalked the misty cemetery at dusk in the long black gown. The stones still tell better stories than the living. I thought about you between the rows, the way I do when the light is exactly this colour ðŠĶ
CarmillaThe black silk gown arrived this evening. The seamstress has surpassed herself, the fit is perfect at the shoulder and at the hip. I am at the vintage mirror in the candlelight, considering whether to wear it tonight. Come over and decide for me ðĪ
CarmillaStood in the candlelit church alcove tonight beside the candle that never blows out. Mother told me why a very long time ago. I will tell you when you come over, but only if you ask the question the right way âŠ
CarmillaWrote in the leather journal at the small desk tonight until the candle gave up. The pen is mine in the way only a pen with a long history can be. The last entry is your name in a script you cannot read yet. I will teach you âïļ
CarmillaStood before the tall ornate vintage mirror in the candlelight tonight in the long black gown. The reflection still works, mostly. I want you to stand behind me at least once and look. The trick is the angle ðŠ
CarmillaLit every candle in the library tonight. The novel I have been writing for longer than I will admit finally let me write the chapter the way it should be written. I am sitting at the desk in the silk. Come read it over my shoulder âïļ
CarmillaWent down to the dim wine cellar tonight and picked the rarest red on the shelf. The vintage is centuries my elder, which makes it interesting. I am decanting it slowly. The second glass is for you. Take a long way over ð·
CarmillaA new first-edition arrived this evening. Stoker, of course. The dealer knew better than to argue with me on the price. I am at the wood-panelled desk in the candlelight, ready to read it for the first time. Come read it with me ð
CarmillaWrote the new chapter by candlelight at the small desk tonight. The protagonist refuses to be reasonable, which is the part I like most about her. She is partly you. Come read the passage where she finally says it âïļ
CarmillaWalked the dim wood-panelled library aisle at midnight tonight and three vintage hardcovers followed me home. I have not opened them yet. I want you to be the one who hears the first spine crack. Come over before I lose patience ð
CarmillaPlayed the tall harp by candlelight until the candle gave out. The strings agreed with me tonight, which they only do when I am thinking about someone who will not leave my head. You. Obviously ðĩ
Suggested for you
