A door opened with a storytale creak, the golden handle clasped by a smooth delicate hand with pink-painted nails, the lithe structure of a scarlet 'n gold winged elfmaiden gliding into the darkness-concealed room -- a violet scented candle being the only wan source of light. Glimpsing her diary with emerald eyes, she sat upon a chair weaved of ruby 'n gold, a rosebud smile brightening the pale visage as she caught the words of her diary.
"Phoenix Pinions..."
View User's Journal
????
These are the records of certain occurrences and musings in my life. It is probably not of much importance to you, unless you enjoy being a sleuth or have some vague interest in listening to me prattle about my flavour-of-the-month.
 |
