this was one the more macabre ways to pass time, one that had brought a peculiar sense of contentment to a woman whose proclivities lied in the occult. hands resting at her sides, it allowed her fingertips to graze with the raven fabric of her skirt, just as the light breeze would caress her flesh. no matter her desire for tactile stimulation, to feel the cool stone of grave markers beneath her grasp, it would be a yearning that would remain unfulfilled. silence would envelop her reality, banishing whispers the deceased strove to communicate with her aid, irises on the grass until it faded to become the foundation of a cathedral.
though her prayers had always been met with the same relentless silence, every trial & demon at her back could not cause her to lose faith. but even with her Catholic upbringing Miss Ives hesitated to cross the threshold, to spew her prayers & beseeching for forgiveness. her decision was a sound one, the resolution of conflict found in her sins, in her pact with the Serpent ----
---- for POWER came at a great cost.
presuming she would sully the hallowed ground causing the brick to corrode & crumble around her, footfalls retreated to seek the refuge of the dead decaying beneath her feet, returning to the graveyard once more. although appearing to be solitary Vanessa knew she was not entirely alone.
