Opening for " 'L' Key".
So I got this necklace that served as a bit of inspiration. The following is the bit of writing that sprang from it. I'm going to work on developing it, but wanted to see what you guys thought about the intro. I also realized I still had only posted poetry here and wanted to share a bit of my other writing. More to follow (soon, I hope!):
The typewriter key had been shined to a glossy black, the ivory "L" in it's center providing a lovely contrast. The key had been circled in silver and turned into a pendant. Now it was displayed on a matching chain in the store's window where it caught the eye of the passing Lily. She gazed admiringly through the glass. There was nothing about it's shiny surface to show it had once been covered in blood. Nothing to show it was steeped in history; steeped in a mystery. There was nothing about it to warn poor Lily she was about to buy more than she bargained for. Good thing for her someone sent her my way.
Psychic Fair crackpots like to reel you in by gazing into your eyes and telling you that you have an “old soul”. Normally it’s bullshit, but in my case they just happen to be right. In fact, my soul has been around the block for so long that in this life, I’m able to act as a guide for other souls. A guide to where, you ask? The Otherworld. The Afterlife. Whatever you want to call that place your soul travels to once your body is done with it. It’s not something I do often. It kind of creeps me out. But every now and then, my bleeding heart trips me up and I make the effort to overcome the wooglies in order to help someone out.
The typewriter key had been shined to a glossy black, the ivory "L" in it's center providing a lovely contrast. The key had been circled in silver and turned into a pendant. Now it was displayed on a matching chain in the store's window where it caught the eye of the passing Lily. She gazed admiringly through the glass. There was nothing about it's shiny surface to show it had once been covered in blood. Nothing to show it was steeped in history; steeped in a mystery. There was nothing about it to warn poor Lily she was about to buy more than she bargained for. Good thing for her someone sent her my way.
Psychic Fair crackpots like to reel you in by gazing into your eyes and telling you that you have an “old soul”. Normally it’s bullshit, but in my case they just happen to be right. In fact, my soul has been around the block for so long that in this life, I’m able to act as a guide for other souls. A guide to where, you ask? The Otherworld. The Afterlife. Whatever you want to call that place your soul travels to once your body is done with it. It’s not something I do often. It kind of creeps me out. But every now and then, my bleeding heart trips me up and I make the effort to overcome the wooglies in order to help someone out.