![]() ![]() But when I finally did get a chance to check, the response was pretty great, and I appreciate the kind words and blah blah blah you aren’t here to read me get sappy. Please support my work by buying me a coffee at Friday morning, I unleashed this little beast into the social medias and went immediately into work for the next 13 hours, like, “I hope people don’t think I’m a butthead.” I don’t recommend working on something for a few months and then launching it and then not being able to check social media or page stats for many hours, because you’ll have a remarkably distracted day at work. I suspect this is one of those pieces which will cause some readers to say, “eh?” The Devil laughs, then, and drops my hand, and walks across the dance floor, into the night. ‘But if you had, this wouldn’t have happened. ‘Perhaps,’ I murmur, glancing at my daughter, the bride. ‘I should have persuaded you the last time,’ he says. He lowers his thick eyelashes and dips his head in the slightest of nods. ‘They’d get over it,’ he whispers, his voice a cool breeze on a hot night. Would they miss me, really, any more than the silvery moon, eternally dancing across night skies? At the other dancers, laughing and glowing. I look around at the people drinking and talking. ![]() Perhaps I have acquired someone else’s memories someone who once looked a little like me. Did she even exist? I surely would not do the things she did. Either way, one day we look back and realise that that person, the person we were, is gone. It is only a matter of whether we choose it, a moment’s decision, or whether it slips away over years. Sometimes I think that we all end up losing ourselves, one way or another. There was more to do, more to experience. The last time I had a whole life ahead of me. We are almost the same height, the Devil and I, and his eyes are liquid brown, so dark it’s hard to tell where iris ends and pupil begins. ![]() I wear these marks with pride, but it would be fanciful to claim they make me beautiful. There are long-healed scars too, although they are mostly hidden. There are lines, now, where once there was smoothness. ‘Beautiful,’ says the Devil, and I’m not sure if he means the moon, or the music, or the bride, who whirls past in a blur of crystals and silk. It seems to twirl with us as we sway and step to the band’s music. A ball of silver and grey in an indigo sky. But still the same time of year, late April, when the evening chill is softened by the smell of newly-cut grass and drifting cherry blossom. His skin is warm, of course, but it no longer smells of smoke, as it did the last time. I laugh, then, but I take his hand and let him lead me onto the dance-floor beside the marquee. ‘Will you dance with me, in the pale moonlight?’ asks the Devil. Tony F on Page From the Journal of Demet…ĭawnGillDesigns on Page From the Journal of Demet… Katlday on Page From the Journal of Demet… ![]() That Isn’t What People Look Like When They’ve Seen a GhostĭawnGillDesigns on I Was a Princess, Once.I Feel a Click as My Skull Comes Back Together.The Faint Sounds of Music and Life in the Distance.Free Doughnuts For All Who Venture Here.Blessed Rain, but the Garden Does Need a Good Water.Page From the Journal of Demetria Wallace, Who was Definitely Not a Witch. ![]()
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