Epistle 8

[missedyourheart]

Secrets, secrets.

I do love the library here. Let me share something I read here since my arrival, "If you reveal your secrets to the wind you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees."

Is the wind that howls through the City an ill one only?

Whisper me a secret, beautiful City, I shall speak it only to the trees.

Comments

[banditfox]

What of those who can hear the trees?

[missedyourheart]

They must be people who truly know how to listen.

[banditfox]

There are those who have had time to learn.

[missedyourheart]

Time is a luxury not all have.

[ohrosalita]

...Soylent Green is people.

[missedyourheart]

I shall make note.

[ohrosalita]

Rosebud was a sled. The dog that played Lassie? Male, with a uniquely placed wig.

[missedyourheart]

And your name...? Or is that a secret unworthy of a whisper?

[she_dove_off]

...You talk pretty. ♥

[missedyourheart]

You are kind to say so.

[she_dove_off]

What is your name?

[missedyourheart]

Dorian Gray, at your service. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?

[glock30]

I doubt that applies when your secrets get revealed without your say-so.

[missedyourheart]

I am learning the City's whims. Like a scorned lover's.

[glock30]

Well you know what they say: hell hath no and all that.

[missedyourheart]

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned / Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."

[just_rosey]

What a lovely sentiment.

[missedyourheart]

I thought so as well.

[just_rosey]

Grace Hawkins, a pleasure.

[missedyourheart]

The pleasure is mine, Miss Hawkins, and I am Dorian Gray.