Dorian stands before Silas’ door for a moment, but can’t bring himself to knock on it just yet. He puts down the bag he’s carrying, straightens his tie, makes it crooked and then straightens it again. Once more he consults the handwritten list in his hand:

Things I must tell Silas

1. I am somewhat older than I look.
2. I sold seem to have ( Read more... )

Dorian pulled the clock resting on the bedside table closer, as his still slightly alcohol-clouded eyes could not make out the numbers. It was two o’clock. Possibly in the afternoon ( Read more... )

Well, it certainly had been an eventful evening so far. But now Dorian thought things were in a bit of a lull. Silas had been admitted to the hospital and was not resting comfortably in bed but still hadn’t woken up. It had been a few hours now. And it was getting annoying.

“Excuse me. Excuse me, you can’t smoke in here!” Dorian scowled at the ( Read more... )

Sophie had gotten a bite to eat at a restaurant not too far away from the coffee shop where she had stayed the other night. She'd managed to find a reasonably nice hotel at a price that would allow her to stay for a while ( Read more... )

Sophie had become accustomed to running away. She was in New York now, fresh off the train and nervous as one might be in a place they'd never been ( Read more... )

It had been strange being there, so many secrets, so many voices all in one place. All too much for her to take. She'd left the party and found her own way to Silas', she really hope he didn't mind her going back there, but she had no where else to go ( Read more... )

It was one of those sunny days that seemed to make everyone smile. She sat on the grass in the park watching everyone come and go, happy children playing ans screaming, lovers laying out on blankets and stealing kisses from one another ( Read more... )

He'd gone to mass, in this new town. He'd worn his robe, with the hood capped over ihs head so they ould not immediately see his pale complection. Scorn and startled looks, looks of shock and disbelief, or wonder and pity were as prominant in the holy church as anywhere, and he could not bear it. Not in the House of God. Not in the one place he ( Read more... )

The strangely overdressed young man sat on a wooden bench, warily eyeing the seagulls gliding above him. Between their garish squawking and the danger they posed to the spotless condition to his cream-coloured three piece suit, there wasn’t much about their current position over his head that he particularly cared for ( Read more... )