The dimly lit room was suffused with the sultry aura of forbidden secrets, where shadows and whispers danced together in a dark tango. The only source of light was a single table lamp, its feeble glow casting eerie silhouettes on this shabby place. It was in this twilight realm that I first laid eyes on it—a mesmerising image that seemed to hold the key to a thousand mysteries.
A piece of cloth, carefully draped across the chair, a piece of red satin against a backdrop of obsidian black. The fabric, a deep ruby red, was intensely alluring, like a siren’s song beckoning the lost souls of the night. Its surface shimmered with subtle undulations, as if it concealed a secret known only to those who dared to gaze upon it long enough. Like secrets of liquid passion that would run through your hands if you tried to embrace them. The black expanse around it was like the void of a starless night, an abyss where desires and secrets conspired.
I couldn’t help but be drawn to it, my eyes fixated on the satin’s inviting folds. It held an allure that transcended mere fabric—it was desire incarnate, a symbol of passions. I knew that behind this innocent facade lay a world of intrigue, one I was compelled to uncover.
In front of the chair was a scarred, mahogany desk, surrounded by an assortment of objects that spoke of the room’s absent occupant. An ashtray, filled with half-smoked cigarettes, a tumbler of bourbon, its contents long drained, hinted at a taste for the forbidden. A crumpled letter, bearing cryptic messages in smudged ink, told a story of intrigue and deceit.
As I stood there, a gust of wind rattled the dusty windowpane, as if the night itself conspired to keep its secrets hidden. This ruby and obsidian gem, now my silent confidante, seemed to beckon me deeper into the shadows, daring me to uncover the mysteries it held.
- The Chrysanthemum: the Weight of Empire
Petals in the cup,Bitter tea for falling kings,Beauty outlasts all. In the autumn of my… Read more: The Chrysanthemum: the Weight of Empire - Vintage Fisherman & Wooden Boat
Straw hat shades his brow,Between green shore and blue sky,Peace rides on the tide. A… Read more: Vintage Fisherman & Wooden Boat - The Rise and Fall of Cardigan Quay
A Tale of Tides and Fortunes Standing on the banks of the Teifi today, looking… Read more: The Rise and Fall of Cardigan Quay - You Never Read the Same Book Twice
“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river… Read more: You Never Read the Same Book Twice
Anthony's Literary Lens 
Leave a comment