I walked into a lavish dining room with heavy velour curtains. The two candles on the side gave this eerie feeling that I was in a surreal world. The house itself was filled with colour and texture – glass, lace, feathers and yards of diaphanous fabric. There seemed to be dissonant chords melting into nothingness, giving the impression of not wanting to fight anymore. The weather was also changeable, like an iridescent shade that changed with the angle of view.
Some black ink stained my purse, but didn’t bother me. I could always buy another one. And then she was there, with her mottled face, talking animatedly while we were having dinner. The butler served us some scrumptious meal. A gilt clip fastened her long, brown hair. We talked about everything – the history of their family, why she inherited this place and how glad she was to have me here as her friend.
Other “fabric” posts:
Welcome to My Storytelling Quilt
Fabric of Humanity