The tale of a TheatreThe door closed with a satisfying click behind me, and the dust swirled into the air, settling on the tattered sheets that hung over old pieces of sets, like skin on a corpse. Red velvet chairs stood sombrely to attention, looking almost like gravestones, a reminder of the audience that once was. A mouse scurries out of one of the many cracks in the wall, and runs under the pile of old clothes, costumes from long ago.
A thin beam of light streams down from a gap in the roof. A spotlight, waiting for a star to shine onto. This place used to home to the music halls, Ol' Crazy Tom says, when it re-opened, before that it was an old theatre, home to the Duke's company.
"been here since 1660ish and that be a long time. At night, as I sit here, you can see the ghost of old actors and actresses on the stage, you can hear the organ play, you can hear the words of the past. It's like they never left. "
I have always been told to ignore the words of strangers, and equally of urban myth and folklo
dA village entryShe walked around the empty town of the unknown, portfolio case tightly tucked under her left arm. She pulled her thin, multicoloured coat around her, partly because of the cold, and partly because she was frightened. Down town dA is a scary place to be. A tile fell off the building below and a scurry of small children ran over to it with deposable cameras. Blinding flashes lit the dark ally way which she walked down. She lifted her grey eyes up to the black, imposing clouds above and let the watercolour rain splash on her face.
"Are you alright darlin'? Wanna see my profile?" screeched a high pitched voice. She turned around and came face to face with a Pageview whore. She backed a way from the whore who had now returned to feeding her fursona, and something which the whore referred to as an "Ego". The girl ran to the end of the ally way her heart beating her chest like a drum major beats his drum. The young girl was beginning to regret telling the servers back at google city to let h