Inkmarks On Empty Dreams

Era o zi cetoasa de toamna tarzie.Trebuia sa merg la o inmormantare. Urasc inmormantarile, nu ca ar fi ceva nefiresc sa mori, doar ca e un moment trist din viata si cei ce raman in urma au cel mai mult de suferit. Tragedia era si mai mare pentru ca decedatul era sau fusese prea tanar si lasase in urma o familie tanara. Afara era frig, lumea era in paltoane negre si cand respirai ieseau aburi, atmosfera era de plumb cu copaci albi de zapada si copaci negri uscati, vorba lui Bacovia. Familia si preotul se adunasera in jurul sicriului sa i nceapa slujba. Eu aveam patru trandafiri rosii si ma apropiam incet, parca sa nu deranjez. Pe cand ma indreptam intr-acolo am observat silueta neagra de langa bradul plin de zapada. Parea ca rade, dar plangea incet si nimeni nu o baga in seama.Fata ii era ascunsa de un val negru, aproape sidefiu si nu indraznea sa se apropie. Nu stiam ce sa fac, asa cum ma inchid in astfel de situatii, nu am putut decat sa o intreb daca totul e in regula : a facut semn ...

At the end of the world...will you find me? „Carmilla” captured me in an amazing dark read, I must say I was impressed by the richness of the vocabulary of such a few pages write. The story and the characters, alltogether with the environment, are brilliantly exposed in an very unique and special way, somehow typicall for the 19 th century British novelists :  the way it was written was in such a possession of words that captures imagination,  reveals strong sensations and reflects the power of  the character, dark ones are always surrounded by a black mist of mystery and sensuality, although there’s the mystery and sensuality of death, as you can guess  the story, yet remain in awe if she get’s caught or will  live forever. “You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me, and still come with me.”  „ Sometimes after an hour of apathy, my strange and beautiful companion would take my hand and hold it with a fond pressure, renewed again and again; blushing softly, gazing in ...