(no subject)

[withoutasea]

The kitchen fascinated her. The machines for boiling water and cleaning crocks, the mechanical range, all of it. She spent time in there, comforted by familiar kitchen sounds (people cooking and eating always sounded like people cooking and eating). Mostly, though, she sat in the large chair in the corner with her knees drawn up under the red silk drape of her skirt. She read books, with her chin leaning in her hand.

There were so many stories, and all of them were in part true.

She turned a page and worried her lip with her teeth.

"Did I always seem so wicked?"