The Night Swallowed Him Up

Because Fear Kills Everything," Mo Had Once Told Her. "your Mind, Your Heart, Your Imagination.

Blue As The Evening Sky, Blue As Cranesbill Flowers, Blue As The Lips Of Drowned Men And The Heart Of A Blaze Burning With Too Hot A Flame. Yes, Sometimes It Was Hot In This World, Too. Hot And Cold, Light And Dark, Terrible And Beautiful, It Was Everything All At Once. It Wasn't True That You Felt Nothing In The Land Of Death. You Felt And Heard And Smelled And Saw, But Your Heart Remained Strangely Calm, As If It Were Resting Before The Dance Began Again. Peace. Was That The Word?

I Always Thought It Hadn't Influenced Me Very Much, But I Heard From Many People From England That Many Motives From German Fairytales Are To Be Found In My Books.

The Fairy's Dress Rustled As She Turned. Human Women Dressed Like Flowers, Layers Of Petals Around A Mortal, Rotting Core.

Reality Is A Fragile Thing.