InsaneJournal

374 - open dreams
[ Dust to dust ]

[ It's a quiet old house, filled with more flowers and folding chairs than anyone could possibly need in their day to day life, unless they're a funeral director. There's a clock ticking somewhere, an eerie stillness in the viewing room, a sturdy white casket making up the center feature. The lid is off and inside, cushioned by plush silk and dolled up as if she's going out for a nice day, is lonely tourist Charlotte Charles. Her skin is dull and pale, her lips a faint blue.

What do you do now? ]


[ Heart of hearts ]

[ Another house, this one bright and worn from generations of life, the rooms stuffed with scuffed furniture and the faint smell of cheese and birds. There's sunlight and a buzz of bees from the backyard. The smell of breakfast food is hanging heavy in the air, as does a perhaps very familiar voice: ]

Pancakes are ready!