Dreaming in grayscale...

If I am not reading then I am watching French films and learning trademark expressions for varying levels of defiance. If viewed twice over then I will be in the kitchen pressing vegan gingerbread with regal tin cutters, so sweet with black tea beneath a drafty window. If the reading light fades and the cookies are all but gone then search the blogs of various publishing houses and that of Mr. Neil Gaiman. You will surely find me there… with all new posts devoured and nothing but fragments remain I will stand before the closet mirror, balancing my auburn eyebrows and placing pins in my hair. When the hour hand reaches the top I will be winding down, listen and you will hear the crooning of female artists such as Cat Power, Amanda Palmer, or Madeleine Peyroux. Then a great tumbling will cause an avalanche of grey linen to cover me in warmth, heavy and still- she sleeps.