#limba

Lilith Clawthorne had only just set the Nightshade Cottage into the precise way she wanted it to be. The exterior still read as somewhat derelict with the dried up vines creeping up the stone. Just as Lilith liked it. Inside it was warmer, dark walls kept it feeling calm yet cozy. Shelves were full of her belongings, from books to silver and bronze knick knacks. Eclectic frames adorned the walls and everything felt old, antique. Not a place for children. Just as Lilith liked it. 

The witch snapped and a fire sprang forth in the hearth, licking the air and radiating an orange glow. She had just started her morning routine; dressing, fire, coffee.

Then just above the crackle of the fire, a knocking. Lilith’s eyes trailed from the colored glass mug in her hands to the front door. Peculiar. In her short time here, no one bothered her on the weekends, let alone at her home. Her dress billowed behind her as she swept across the den to answer the knocking.

When she revealed just who it was, Lilith felt a bit of deja vu. It was as if she’d seen that face before. Kind dark eyes, an inviting smile. Lilith’s face remained stern and skeptical when she asked, “Hello?”

[wardrobe]

Ți-am jurat eternitate,

Aș mai vrea, odată

Primăvara e aproape

Nu mă las purtat de umbre,

Soarele străbate,

Același ton clădit, răsună

Aceeași stare mă afundă

Schițez stări noi, acum

A opta schimbare, apasă

În mine zace o artă

Nu mai e ca altă dată,

O paletă de culori vii

Stă să cadă,

Las pensula din mână

Privesc în gol,

Te văd în fața ochilor.