Monday, July 11, 2011

A macabre ballet

Two mice and three young crows were today's foundlings....Ottoline spent the hours that followed stitching together her sad little ensemble of tiny ballerinas and feathery dancers, only arising from her work table to turn on her gas lamp as the sun dipped below the black woods of the Perigord Noir.
Finally her cast was complete and she sat back on her stool to watch the wondrous display of twirling tulle and swooshing satin and silk, all performed to a sombre yet capriccio tune in her head....

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