Date: Monday, 27 November 2000
Time: Very early in the morning-- in fact, 0437
Location: St Georges Rd, St Margarets, Middlesex
Rating: G
[Owl to Severus]
My dear friend, Severus--
How are you? Such a silly question, but I cannot help wondering, especially in the light of my prolonged absence from the world of the living. Are you allright? I hope nothing has been plaguing your existence, or else-- I might just decide to punish whatever that may have been disturbing you. Just because you are my friend. My only friend, but I don't want to cry right now.
I have been doing rather fine-- although, to you I cannot lie. I must say that I have been suffering. Quietly, in my dark little corner: oh, wait, you don't like confessions like that, do you?
Yesterday, I witnessed a rainbow. I wondered where the foxes might have been having their weddings. Then the sky started clearing and there were brilliant rays of the sun piercing their way through the leaden clouds. I thought-- how is Severus doing?
So how are you doing?
Argh-- Ah, here I am, back-- I'd forgotten to turn off the water in the bathtub and it went spilling over. Nothing to worry about, of course, a few quick cleansing spells and I should be done. Now if only I'd paid attention when Dad used them back in the years...
I miss you.
And with this I shall sign off.
~Myron
[/End]
[Owl to Deirdre]
My dearest, most beautiful and kind, my--
L'amour
My beautiful Lady of midnight gossamer--
I kneel before your seductive power, and your smiles- hidden behind your full-moon lips. And your hair, dark as the night, and your scent.
You haunt me. I surrender, powerless. I do not know what to do.
My dear partner in crime, dances, cooking, and violins-- and midsummer nights,
Nothing I might say or do may ever excuse my unimaginable behavior. I beg to be punished for not spending every minute of my life near You.
I have started having nightmares about never having met You, my Muse. (Is this far too much?)
Can I bring you a bed of lily petals? I have them in my garden. You can sleep there on winter nights and remember the spring.
I have been plagued with anomie, if that would be of any explanation. The ennui that settled inside my house, I cannot explain. What are the roots, what are the causes. It may be seasonal. (I always disappear on Autumns.) I cannot bear the thought of death.
I will bring you your bed soon.
~Myron
[/End]