Memories of Midnight

She was anonymous, a stranger living among strangers.

A poet once said that the eyes are the windows of the soul.

there were tantalizing flashes of memo

She was anonymous, a stranger living among strangers

there were tantalizing flashes of memory, glimpses of vague, ephemeral images that came and went too quickly for her to grasp them, to hold them and examine them. They came at unexpected moments, catching her off guard and filling her with confusion.

woof and warp

Agios Constantinous Day

tenth-century art of Ishinpo

One day he’ll get tired of all his whores, Melina thought, and he’ll realize that he needs only me.

I’d be careful if I were you. Don’t rush into anything.”

“I won’t,” Catherine promised.