sheldrake

in fangirl language *glug*

in other words, i loved your sunrise imagery
Day comes slowly and sideways on. In the kitchen, the sick light buzzes and fades, its power diminishing. Day brushes blankly over the vodka bottles and the caps from the vodka bottles and the torn bits of red foil from the vodka bottles that lie on the tabletop. Daylight is strong and soft at the same time, lying like milk on the rim of a tumbler, soaking into a bedraggled half-slice of lemon, distorting it through the glass. There is one lemon pip on the table, dried out and stuck there.

it was so perfect, the way you characterized Day

hopes for a sequel