Tuesday, October 16, 2012


Tonight Brian Williams wears the more sedate cousin of last night's garish and brash cravat.  The muted, smoked violet and sooty navy stripe is a vast improvement in style and palette.  She had not been on the property for more than twenty years, but little had changed.  In the halflight of the dawn, she edged her car closer to the towering iron gates ahead.  Under their shroud of silent mist, lavender fields slumbered fragrantly in neglect.  The house waited still and patient, its dignity in tarnish and disrepair, but very much alive.