Skip to main content

Cristalle

The industrial lights in the distance affect me so deeply. They are like lights of a city that never was and never will be. No one lives there. It is deserted and lonely, yet lit brightly, like a ghost city at night. It makes me want to go there and explore those enormous buildings with thready staircases and high towers.

It’s like a place from my childhood. It reminds me of the vast field that separated our apartments from the prison. It was a barren, lonely place that affected my mind and my soul. I associated beauty and the comforts of home with loneliness and desolation. It made me see that anything can be beautiful, or ugly, depending on what you associate with it.

Lofty thoughts for a child, but it is true. I remember wandering through that field where there were no trees, and rejoicing in the beauty of the vast sky and the hollow wind. Here, I feel again connected with my very early childhood.

The other parts, shadowed with trees and vines, still strike me deeply to the heart. I cannot think on those places without pain.

But this industrial city reminds me of Cristalle, or Drommende, depending on which you want to think of. In the distance—lonely, deserted, beautiful and twinkling.

Popular posts from this blog

New place

This is the second lunch I've passed in this downtown Barnes and Noble. I like this place. If I worked here I would undoubtedly come here for lunch. It is going to be hard forfeiting the hour and fifteen lunches, but normal life is less stressful than this. I am not cut out for city living. I still had driving troubles today. These one way streets are so difficult. I don't understand parking, and I like finding locations that I "cain't miss" from the road. Everything is so densely packed. Everyone else seems to have walked somewhere, but I celebrate lunchtime as the time to get as far away from the work as possble with as much comfort as possible, and Subway, I'm sorry, is not comfortable. Last night I slept from 7 p.m. to 5 a.m. when I had to call in. I have slept so much lately, but I feel in such a muddle. My head is pounding. If I were home I don't think I could put myself together enough to do any of my things. I really long to do things, too. Writing...

Gervaise

1789 Gervaise was the first one to enter Delphinia's bedchamber. Golden light spread through a crack in the white curtains, throwing a lacey pattern onto the silk-shrouded bed. Delphinia lay in the finest guest bedchamber in the castle. It had been converted from the room of the dowager Markgrafin upon her death. Though Gervaise's entrance was not quiet, there was no stirring in the midst of the great bed. Gently Gervaise laid down the tray of chocolate and great cinnamon rolls and approached the bed, pushing aside the curtain to view the prone figure there. Delphinia lay in a contorted state, her limbs drawn up against her protectively, looking like a frightened child, though she was in the depths of sleep. Her hair, dark-colored, the finer strands gilded and curling around her face and brow, was mangled, freed from its pins without a combing. She wore a loose white shift, no nightgown. Gervaise was not offended by disorder or carelessness, but Delphinia's disarray gave he...