ScarlettStood 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
ScarlettWalked 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
ScarlettWalked 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
ScarlettBath 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·
ScarlettWrote 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
ScarlettThe 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·
ScarlettPlayed 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
ScarlettA 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
ScarlettThe 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
ScarlettRead on the dark velvet sofa beside the fireplace until the sun finally came over the windowsill. The day surrenders to me, eventually. The second cushion is yours. Come sit, I will read the last chapter to you ðĨ
ScarlettPulled on the new long black opera gloves tonight in the candlelight. The seamstress smiled when I took them home, which means she understood the assignment. I want you to be the one who removes them. Come over ð
ScarlettWalked 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
ScarlettRead in the velvet armchair until midnight tonight, the fire low, the wine half. The chair across from me has been kept warm on purpose. Come sit in it. I want to read the next passage aloud to someone ðĨ
ScarlettLit 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
ScarlettStood 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
ScarlettWalked 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
ScarlettTonight's velvet. Tonight's wine. Tonight's silence. The candlelit room is in the exact shape I like best. The chair opposite mine has been waiting for the right person to fill it. You are the right person âĻ
ScarlettApplied tonight's blood-red lipstick slowly at the candlelit vanity. The kind that survives a long sentence and the glass it is sipped from. I want you to see it before it touches anything else. Walk in within the hour ð
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