adellagreen

There was a strangeness about the library when Childermass had entered this section. A sort of feeling that one gets when something was not quite right but unable to place exactly what. As if everything was moved over a single centimeter but he had no way of proving as such. A flash of light caught his eye and when he leaned over just so, he could see that behind one of the books was a hole and taking the book off the shelf he could see directly into it. Beyond this bookshelf, though it should not have existed within the reasonable standards of logic, was a yellow room— well, a series of rooms from what Childermass could see at his limited vantage point. The light was a sickly sulphur yellow and when he leaned close, he could hear a low and consistent buzz like a swarm of bees rested just beyond the wall. It smelled damp and old but not in a natural sort of way and Childermass felt unsettled to his very core.

“They sat down upon the grassy bank of a brown stream. The warm, soft air and the scent of roses calmed and soothed Mr Segundus. His eyes closed once. Opened. Closed again. Opened slowly and heavily… He began to dream almost immediately.”

I’ll call this part one, as it’s only really the first page.

Going back to reread the scene made me a little teary — okay maybe very BUT I was having very sudden memories of when I first read it. I would continue it now but I left my book at a friends house (the one I’m reading it to) and I cannot begin until I have it back!

“To make it worse, his face changes completely when his companion (Mr Segundus, also a magician and a schoolmaster somewhere here in Yorkshire) enters the room (which walls will bear the finished work). The irony and what I can only describe as lazy contempt shift into something warm and unexpectedly soft,”

“To make it worse, his face changes completely when his companion (Mr Segundus, also a magician and a schoolmaster somewhere here in Yorkshire) enters the room (which walls will bear the finished work). The irony and what I can only describe as lazy contempt shift into something warm and unexpectedly soft,”

Same Hoz, same. 😔

Anyway, I don’t know what’s funnier, the “I don’t know this person!”

Strawberries from a magician’s hat, very necessary and practical magic that. 🍓♥️🍓

No quote today, just sillies. For some reason I drew them having strawberries many years ago.. they deserve some small delights after so much misfortune and havoc. But I also like to think they magicked them out of the hat.