loneiysong
Pulsar
- Joined
- Apr 13, 2012
Her name was Esmerelda. Esme to her friends. She had a type of classic beauty that so many strived for but couldn’t obtain. Features were sharp and spoke of a time long gone. Her skin was the color of light coffee. Some even said that she looked like the Egyptian goddess. Her long black hair that cascaded down her back had soft peppering of grey. But that only made her look majestic and knowledged. Honey eyes promised either pain or pleasure. Truth was anyone who was in her company said both was how she handled her life.
Waking up early in the morning, she stretched out. Today was the first day. The madam spider would spin her web only to catch a poor unsuspecting butterfly. A wide grin spread over her lips. She would be mistress to someone soon enough. Not unlike a woman planning for a new baby, she had a room set up, had ordered toys and clothes. Getting up, she took a quick shower and brushed her teeth. Getting dressed in a broom skirt and a halter top with a sheer sweater over the top, she walked down to her shop.
The Tree of Knowledge was her baby. She loved it. Which was why she lived above it. In the front of the store, she had every sort of book one could want. From first editions to best sellers, she had it. However, the further back into the store one got, the more they realized Esme’s taste. The next room was the occult and gems and anything anyone could ever want. But the back room, she guarded heavily. In the back room, it was sectioned off with a big black oak door with a tree burnt into it. That room no one saw. The only one who saw were her good customers. The outside of the bookstore looked like a classic style bookstore. All brick. Sandwiched and hidden safe from a world gone crazy. A world that didn’t understand or try to understand Esme. But she preferred her solidarity. Inside the place was decorated with deep soft chairs dark wood. All leather and wood. There was a soft trim of a soft green. The store gave the sensation of being inside a tree.
There was other room, no one knew about. It was hidden in the closet behind the register. It was the way to the basement where she kept boxes of books but also something deep and dark. An old wall of chains and a long forgotten St. Andrew’s cross that was as old as she was. She would hire movers to move that cross up to the playroom today. Sitting before the register, she was looking over emails humming along to some beautiful classical music that played in the background. She sipped her coffee and waited for the day to begin.
Waking up early in the morning, she stretched out. Today was the first day. The madam spider would spin her web only to catch a poor unsuspecting butterfly. A wide grin spread over her lips. She would be mistress to someone soon enough. Not unlike a woman planning for a new baby, she had a room set up, had ordered toys and clothes. Getting up, she took a quick shower and brushed her teeth. Getting dressed in a broom skirt and a halter top with a sheer sweater over the top, she walked down to her shop.
The Tree of Knowledge was her baby. She loved it. Which was why she lived above it. In the front of the store, she had every sort of book one could want. From first editions to best sellers, she had it. However, the further back into the store one got, the more they realized Esme’s taste. The next room was the occult and gems and anything anyone could ever want. But the back room, she guarded heavily. In the back room, it was sectioned off with a big black oak door with a tree burnt into it. That room no one saw. The only one who saw were her good customers. The outside of the bookstore looked like a classic style bookstore. All brick. Sandwiched and hidden safe from a world gone crazy. A world that didn’t understand or try to understand Esme. But she preferred her solidarity. Inside the place was decorated with deep soft chairs dark wood. All leather and wood. There was a soft trim of a soft green. The store gave the sensation of being inside a tree.
There was other room, no one knew about. It was hidden in the closet behind the register. It was the way to the basement where she kept boxes of books but also something deep and dark. An old wall of chains and a long forgotten St. Andrew’s cross that was as old as she was. She would hire movers to move that cross up to the playroom today. Sitting before the register, she was looking over emails humming along to some beautiful classical music that played in the background. She sipped her coffee and waited for the day to begin.