A whisper

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A small sound

Going round and round

My ears

Perking to the lows

Dipping to the highs

A whisper

Deep in my mind

Is it there?

Can you here it?

Or is it in my head?

Is it a yell?

– writingdilegently

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Masquerade Part 3

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Back in her room, she closed her eyes and fell into her velvet covered chair. She looked at herself in the vanity. A pure image of her mother. The painting of that long lived woman sat above her bed.

Not even the slightest sound from the ground floor reached her bedroom and she more lonely than every before. She felt the slightest feeling of tears wanting to break through her ducts, but she blinked them away. Not now. Not so soon.

She still needed to show her strength and claim. She needed to show that the name she held, the one passed down through marriage and birth still ment something. Lievantian. It needed to continue to be powerful. And elegant.

– writingdilegently

Masquerade Part 1

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She sat at her vanity, listening to her dressing maid count away the stokes of the brush as she pulled it through her long dark hair. “… 93…..94…..95…..96……97…..98……99…..100.”┬áThe old woman set down the brush as looked through the mirror at her mistress. “Shall I braid it madam?”

Valery nodded, “Please Gurtrude.”

Gurtrude took her hair in her fingers masterfully. Slowlyy but surely, she twisted and pulled and braided her hair in a fantastic updo. “Your hair is done madam.”

Valery raised from her seat. “You are excused now.”

“Yes madam.” The old woman raised and walked hunchbacked out the room.

Valery gazed at herself in the mirror. Her corset was laced under her dress to the tightest. Her breathing came slow and shallow. Her bust showed, pushed just above the neckline of her blouse. Her skirts came low, 12 layers of fabric just barely sweeping the floor. She pulled out her late father’s pocket watch from her bust and checked the time, 7 pm. Two more hours.

– writingdilegently