Dec 17, 2007 15:26
It had been nearly a week since Anthony had walked away from him. A dreary, dull, grey week. He'd spent a lot of time reading, a lot of time thinking, and not a single moment writing. In the past, depression had led to some of his better poems, but now...he didn't want to write. There was nothing worth capturing in his eyes any more.
And so it was that he was kneeling in front of the wardrobe Guy had helped him build, his notebook full of poetry on his thighs as he stared down at it. After a few minutes' contemplation, he pulled the drawer open and removed the silk scarf he'd arrived in, slowly wrapping the notebook in the white silk before returning both to the drawer. Romance was dead, turned to ash in his heart, and with it the flowery words he'd written. Perhaps one day he would write again, but not the silly dreams of Beauty and Love that were contained within the book.
julian bell,
vanessa bell