Wells are for bells, swift slices, gory paintings, tunnels to everywhere, forgotten footsteps, enchanted afternoons, impeccable burglaries, locked in the locket of house’s owls, sultry sketches, devious daydreams, disappearing drives, lawful indiscretions, lonely afternoons, mysterious paternity, talking to elves in the painting, the unseen sands that draft at night, the empty refrigerator, stone portraits, romantic graveyards, tea-filled tires, jaguar breaths, silk bathrobe ties, stained drawings, war crimes, famine, the soul of Bluebeard, the rags of finery, meaningless piles of money to set aflame, and spies will be your friends.
nicholauspatnaude 
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