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Old paper must and dust. Sunlight on the cushioned chairs. Old oak wood held in place with nails that are. Giving off the smell of rust. And tiny light blue lichens. Barely scenting the air.
() Light a candle | | Lift the gloom | | Place one inside | | Every room Pictures form In dancing flame ...
Afternoon done end of the sun. Time for evenings magic to be spun. The blue of the day has gone away. Claret and purple are holding sway. Warm and swollen the start of the night.
The room was chill, the rather ornate fireplace dead and cold. Ornate furniture from a more formal time was placed to the best advantage.
It twirls and curls, Up in the sky. Leaving the fire, Not saying goodbye. This silent assassin, Never asks why. Beautiful yet deadly, Stinging your eye.