JBB: An Artblog!
cherry valley forever
hello vonnie
Stranger Things
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Cosimo Galluzzi
@theartofmadeline
we're not kids anymore.
h
RMH
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Xuebing Du
Misplaced Lens Cap
Today's Document
YOU ARE THE REASON
oozey mess
Three Goblin Art
Keni
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@hamletfemmefatale
The road
The road was long and dark. But there was something else in there, and for a moment I thought that the road was turning itself into a dark cloud. For it was moving, like a shadow. However, the shadow turned out to be the road itself, and I understood that the road was…
Loneliness
I think I am unhappy in a way. Because I am afraid. I am always afraid, and sometimes I am very lonely.
The Cursed Antique Shop
Lola Moonstar was only ten years old, but she considered herself a grown woman. Only yesterday her father slapped her mother. She saw him slapping her, and that was humiliating.
Her mother should not have married such a violent man. He was manipulative, and although Lola Moonstar was only ten years old, she was wise beyond her years. She knew her father's exact thought process. She knew that he was a man who knew how to abuse other people emotionally. Therefore, she wanted her mother to divorce that man. Today, however, she decided to spend her time on herself. She did not need to think about frivolous things, such as unemotionally stable adults, as she wanted to buy something glittering and sparkly. Something that was called a magic potion. Something prohibited and unattainable.
So she walked all alone to the antique shop…
The antique was located at the end of the street, at the edge of the star. That is how she perceived the antique shop that appeared out of nowhere. For it really appeared out of nowhere. It had a lot of space, and it had many antique things, like a bunny inside a hat. It had a carousel. A small carousel spinning on its own. But there were some things that were even more beautiful and magnificent. Like a magic potion. The magic potion had the ability to transform you into a fluffy cheesecake. Fluffy Cheesecake was a character in the visual novel The Kingdom of Candy Crushes and a magical girl and head priestess. She could rule the flow of time, and she was the mistress of the night. Or something like that. She did not remember the exact words, but she certainly admired Fluffy Cheesecake. She was kind and benevolent. She killed evil monsters.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
“Yeah, come in. You don’t need to ask that every time you enter,” answered a man.
When Lola entered the antique shop, she was immediately immersed in the aquarium of little pearls and diamonds, full of antique things. She was swimming like a golden fish. There was no air, but she was still alive.
“Do you want a diamond?” the man offered. He looked like an elf, though not handsome. He looked like an average elf.
Can’t risk it
The main character lives in the Future
29999
Vic Peace
Piano Sonata Number 21.
I am going to find him.
I am going to find him!
I am going to find him!
I was determined to find him. But I had a hard time concentrating.
I observed carefully and noticed that two customers were arguing.
“Toss the fucking corn!”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said toss the fucking corn!”
That is what they were arguing about. I was a little bit startled by their melancholy conversation. Seems like Customer A and Customer B have been somewhat intertwined.
“I will do it, Pari,” I said. “I suppose I am Customer A.”
Piano Sonata Number 22.
“So are you ready to unleash your adventure?” asked the conductor.
“Well, yeah,” said I. But somehow, I was no longer that interested in finding Toni. Let’s just say I wasn't very motivated.
“You know the rule, right?”
“Yeah, I know it.”
“Then hop up on a horse, darling.”
I was a little bit flabbergasted by the conductor’s perception of me. He seemed to be perceiving me as a child, or something. Meanwhile, Pari tossed the corn. The corn, swirling and sifting, made a swooshing sound.
The carousel started moving.
I looked at Pari. She was waving. I waved back.
Then I saw the conductor and other participants. Some were behind me. Some were riding ponies after me. There were a total of ten people participating in round one.
Then I saw the place where I have grown. The mountainous temple. Full of green forest.
It was my personal heaven. It would soon disappear, though.
Somewhere in the mountainous temple existed a boy. He just existed. Because he was just a boy. Not a hero. His dream was to become a writer. But his parents wanted him to become a temple priest. "Climb to the haven," they said. Find salvation. So he tried to find salvation. He stepped onto the stairway to heaven, and he saw the flowers. He saw the hills. He saw the trees. It was beautiful. He was at peace.
PRESENT
SCENE 1
Vic’s Room, Temple-Vic Peace is eating tempura.
He licks his fingers. He finally feels satisfied.
He hears his mother’s voice in his head: “You are not supposed to eat meat. You are a priest, remember?”
His feeling of satisfaction immediately disappears. Now he feels guilty.
Vic Peace wants to get tempura out of his stomach. So he put his finger in his mouth. He does not vomit, though. He is speechless. Speechless?
He notices that his mouth has disappeared. He is not bothered. He goes to play with his golden fish. But he notices that his goldfish has been dead for quite a time.
He forgot to feed his fish. He died. Vic Peace understands that he is an irresponsible person. He is at fault here.
He cries.
“Such a baby, you only know how to cry,” his mother says.
He cries.
“You were the one who wanted to buy a fish.”
He tries not to cry.
“Don’t cry.” It was Pari.
IT WAS PARI.
Vic opens his eyes.
PAST
I opened my eyes. I saw Pari once again. She was shouting.
“Don’t cry, Vic!”
Ponies were galloping. They had been trotting, but now they were galloping. I felt the rush of vomit in my throat. I nearly fell.
I was afraid of falling, so I swallowed the vomit back into my stomach.
I began to hallucinate. I began to hallucinate about Vic Peace, and he was reminiscing.
He remembers how he was once a psychopath. He remembers how he met all his friends.
The first time that Vic Peace met Pari was in 89999, in Paris. He was invited to a cult. He was writing a book. The book was about philosophical stuff. He was researching nihilism and the psychological horror. He then decided to make an experiment. His experiment consisted of releasing his first draft. But no one cared to read his first draft. His readers found the concept of the real book boring. They find it too short. However, Vic Peace could not write long books. He was trying to create a language of his own. He wanted to write beautiful sentences. Sentences transcending the present and the future.
Words can time-travel, too. So his books were always short, consisting only of one hundred pages.
“My name is Pari. What is your name?”
“Vic, peace. But you can call me Vic.”
“Do you believe in God?"
“No.” He was lying, though.
“Then why are you here?”
“Because he invited me. Miun. He said that there is going to be a cocktail party. I don’t see any cocktails anywhere, though.”
“Miun? I think you have been misinformed about the party.”
“Misinformed?”
“It’s not a cocktail party. We are going to hold a lecture about the summoning.”
“Summoning? Are you going to summon the god?”
“Yes, we are going to learn how to summon the nihilist god.”
PRESENT
SCENE 2
The little boy kills his golden fish. His mother convinces him that he has killed his fish. He is truly convinced now that he has killed his fish.
He is not in the temple. He is flying in a pitch-black space. He is tired. However, in the pitch-black space, he gets to meet other people, so he cannot sleep.
He has visitors in the pitch-black space.
“Tell me, your holiness? Tell me, your holiness, what is wrong with me?” asks the visitor.
“What is wrong?”
“I need your guidance, for I am lonely.”
“Then you should go to therapy.”
“But I don’t have money for therapy.”
“Then go and find a job suitable for your own needs.”
“You are so rude. I am your grandmother. Did you forget or what?”
“Exactly, I am your grandson. I am not supposed to be your personal therapist.”
“Oh, but you are going to be my personal therapist. You're going to listen. There is no one else.”
PAST
Vic Peace breathed heavily.
I breathed heavily.
The carousel was still spinning. The other ten contesters were still riding. Yet my mind had already started to break. I was being mentally tortured.
The main character lives in the Future Cyberpunk 29999 Piano Sonata Number 1. I wrote a letter and unfolded it. It was truly my special letter. I was trying to summon the god, the nihilist. She was a legend, and I was trying to summon the legend. It ought to be said that I needed her, for I lived in hell, and hell does not have a god. It all began when I transferred. Back then, I was working for a company called Talented Cyberpunk of the Renaissance Fair. But the head manager deemed me unworthy and undisciplined because I was always late. It was true that I couldn't come on time. It was not my fault, though. I was sick. Like really sick. So it was quite difficult for me. My body was functioning fine, but I was mentally sick. I could not concentrate enough to wake from my daily slumber. I did not have enough fuel in the brain's storage. But that is not what is important. What is important now that I am working for another company called Talented Cyberpunk of the Victorian Era? Honestly, it was not a job suited for me. My sole function was to write a story that would entertain Victorian-era ladies living in the future. It may sound confusing, but in the future, different kinds of entities can literally transfer their minds to brains attached to bodies belonging to people from a different era. I was writing a bunch of romance stories and was getting bored. Romance was not really my thing. What I really wanted was to earn some money. Everyone loves money, and I love money. But here is the thing: even though I was earning a decent amount of money, I was not happy. I was not happy: fate preordained for me to meet him, and I met him. I met the psychopath.
The main character switches body
A Midnight Summer's Switch
Piano Sonata Number 1.
Lord Earl Grey, handsome, clever, and rich, lived all his life comfortably at his leisure.
He was the eldest son of the Baron; therefore, in consequence of his father’s noble lineage, he had all the privileges of being born into the wealthy and aristocratic household. He had five mistresses, and he spent all his days partying, drinking, and playing cards. He truly did not have a care in the world.
I must say, however, that there was some grievance waiting upon him, and when it came, Lord Earl Grey did not know how to process it, for it was just an ordinary morning for him.
He woke up from his daily slumber, quite malnourished. He touched his hair to calm himself when, all of a sudden, he noticed that his hair was longer and silkier, like cotton candy.
Every morning, his butler would bring him an English breakfast, consisting of fried eggs, bacon, pork sausages, baked beans, fried mushrooms, and toast. But for some reason, today, instead of his butler, a maid opened the door to his room. She entered the room, and she seemed to be unbothered about the fact that he was in his underwear.
“Hold the horses!” someone shouted, and that someone was Mark, an android. Piano Sonata Number 10. It was March 8, 9999. The whole town
Cyberpunk 89999
Piano Sonata Number 1.
I wrote a letter and unfolded it.
It was truly my special letter. I was trying to summon the god, the nihilist. She was a legend, and I was trying to summon the legend.
It ought to be said that I needed her, for I lived in hell, and hell does not have a god.
It all began when I transferred.
Back then, I was working for a company called Talented Cyberpunk of the Renaissance Fair. But the head manager deemed me unworthy and undisciplined because I was always late.
It was true that I couldn't come on time. It was not my fault, though. I was sick. Like really sick. So it was quite difficult for me. My body was functioning fine, but I was mentally sick. I could not concentrate enough to wake from my daily slumber. I did not have enough fuel in the brain's storage. But that is not what is important. What is important now that I am working for another company called Talented Cyberpunk of the Victorian Era?
Honestly, it was not a job suited for me. My sole function was to write a story that would entertain Victorian-era ladies living in the future. It may sound confusing, but in the future, different kinds of entities can literally transfer their minds to brains attached to bodies belonging to people from a different era.
I was writing a bunch of romance stories and was getting bored. Romance was not really my thing. What I really wanted was to earn some money. Everyone loves money, and I love money. But here is the thing: even though I was earning a decent amount of money, I was not happy.
I was not happy, so fate preordained for me to meet him, and I met him. I met the psychopath.
I met him when I was drinking a glass of champagne mixed with alcohol dust. I looked at the blackboard. The blackboard was big and shiny, and it had a message on it: “You are the winner.” I thought about how pointless it all seemed to be and that I had a lot of projects that I could realize, because apparently, I was rich, but not rich enough to write my own story. Then I met HIM.
No, it's more like his cold eyes. Yes, his cold eyes met my eyes. He was charismatic, and I was immediately drawn to him.
I wanted something from him, but I did not know what I wanted from him.
He said, “Care to drink with me?”
I answered, "Sure, why not?, and we were drinking together.
That is how it all began. We were drinking, and that led to another thing, and the next thing I knew, I was his slave.
He invited me to his secret room. What I want to say is that he had a secret room, and in his secret room, he had a cult. The whole cult was dedicated to summoning the god of nihilism. In short, I was invited to his cult.
There were a lot of people in this cult. I immediately became friends with the cult member called Pari. Pari was a hairdresser specializing in cutting the hair of androids. She loved androids, but she was also a human. I think I became friends with her because I was a human myself. Nowadays, humans are becoming extinct, so it was kind of an experiment for me. We made love together, and I understood that it was a very unique experience to be able to have natural sex.
In the evening, Pari introduced me to her other friends: Mark and Anthony. Mark was an android, and Anthony was an artificial intelligence who considered himself a vampire. You could say that he was a Goth. He always wore those dark clothes, and he was jealous of me because I was a human. But he was more jealous of another friend of ours. Her name was Lucy, and I think she was a vampire. She was soulless, but she was thirsty, so she wanted to summon the god of nihilism. She hoped that he would help her to restore her soul.
One question I constantly had was who the nihilist god was. Pari explained to me that the nihilist god was a genetic mutation inside a jar and that she contained inside herself multiple personality disorders that would help us all to regain our emotions.
She said that in the past, human beings had a range of emotions and that they were expressive and alive. But nowadays human beings are extinct, and we are all kind of dull in the aspect of emotional intelligence. Of course, I am human, so it would be more accurate to say I have a lot of emotions bottled inside my own heart. But still, compared to humans who lived three million years ago, I am kind of an amateur. It is really sad, though it is true.
Piano Sonata Number 2.
I said I tried to summon the nihilist god. I hoped that he would help me to overcome my mental issues. I had trouble concentrating, and it was quite difficult for me to write.
It was required of me to write a romance story, but I was bored because I could not concentrate enough. Moreover, I still had trouble waking up on time, and everyone knows that punctuality is the key factor for success in the futuristic world.
Here comes he. The psychopath. Well, I would not say that he was a psychopath, but I was pretty much sure that he was a psychopath.
His name was… He had a lot of names. Each person called him differently, and he preferred when I called him Miun.
Miun was the kind of guy who was always kind. He was sweet and apologetic. He was also perfect. He did not have any faults in him. He was a perfectionist.Everyone was mesmerized by him.
He had a theory. His theory was that the futuristic world was mundane and ordinary and that it would need to be fixed, and by fixing, he meant by summoning the nihilist god; at that time, we did not know that he was hiding a grave factor concerning the nihilist god, and we did not know that he would be so unattached from the external world that he would be brave enough to do what he planned.
What I am trying to say here is that he wanted to destroy our planet. He wanted to create chaos—a black box.
For that, he needed the nihilist god.
His plan was simple: to summon the god and then infect each member of the cult with the mental disorder, and in turn, each member of the cult would infect everyone else on the planet.
It was like a fever dream. We knew that, of course, the genetic mutation inside a jar had an incredible power. Still, we all thought that it would help us to regain something, or in my case, lose something, like getting rid of my mental disorder regarding the lack of concentration. But who would have thought that the god was, in reality, a container for multiple infectious diseases—mental disorders that could be transferred to humans, androids, artificial intelligence, and other species?
I was flabbergasted. However, Miun was an exceptional liar, and the ritual for summoning the nihilist god was a success.
It was stated that to summon the god, the membership of the cult ought to be extended to at least five hundred followers. Thanks to Miun’s charisma, the cult consisted of one thousand members; therefore, it was a complete success.
None of the cult members remembers what really happened.
I just woke up one morning and felt this strange sensation. The sensation of a burning itch inside my brain. I was not cured. In fact, I got worse.
Futuristic World
I wrote a letter and unfolded it.
It was truly my special letter. I was trying to summon the god, the nihilist. She was a legend, and I was trying to summon the legend.
It ought to be said that I needed her, for I lived in hell, and hell does not have a god.
It all began when I transferred.
Back then, I was working for a company called Talented Cyberpunk of the Renaissance Fair. But the head manager deemed me unworthy and undisciplined because I was always late.
It was true that I couldn't come on time. It was not my fault, though. I was sick. Like really sick. So it was quite difficult for me. My body was functioning fine, but I was mentally sick. I could not concentrate enough to wake from my daily slumber. I did not have enough fuel in the brain storage. But that is not what is important. What is important now that I am working for another company called Talented Cyberpunk of the Victorian Era?
A Midsummer Night's Dream
Piano Sonata Number 1.
It appears that someone has been playing a game. That was a fact.
Because every day at five in the morning, he was brought breakfast and a cappuccino—but today, he was brought only a handful of dust.
First, he was confused, then he looked at his hands. His hands were small, and he had the fragrance of snow. He realised, thereupon, that he was not an earl but the daughter of a lord…
Piano Sonata Number 2.
In this sense, it was difficult to become the daughter of a lord. The lord who has been impoverished.
His father was an ambitious man. That is to say, he was a Machiavellian mastermind, while his four daughters were his obedient puppets who were soon to be set up in an arranged marriage.
In fact, Lord Franngton had quite a grand plan for his most beloved and obedient daughter, Saraht.
Saraht, for that was his name now, was a beautiful woman. Moreover, she possessed a weapon that not every beautiful woman possessed, and that was the most moronic expression that she had on her face. In a way, she always looked dumbfounded, like a complete idiot who could not determine what was wrong and what was right.
Therefore, Lord Franngton secretly had an expectation that his idiot daughter would get married to the crown prince and bear the heir to the throne.
“Dear daughters, should not you all be ready for a ball?” He asked in a monotone voice in the evening, as if he were making a statement or proclamation.
“Not really,” answered the eldest daughter, Eveline. She was the most intelligent and shrewd one, which is why she always acted like she was not interested in the marriage scheme of her beloved papa. Furthermore, she spent all her time reading books and scrolls.
“Oh, I am quite ready, Papa! This is such a wonderful occasion!” said Ponepellla, his second daughter. She was the epitome of cheerfulness.
“What can be the meaning of this emphatic exclamation?” cried Resiollan, the third daughter of Lord Franngton. Of course, Resiollan knew that Ponepella was a deluded clown in her own right and that she was the Pollyanna of her own story; nonetheless, she still had this urge to act completely dumbfounded.
“Well, we are all going to meet the crown prince.”
“Ponepella, do not be such a simpleton. We are not going to a ball to just meet the crown prince. We are all going there to make an impression on him, which I consider quite barbaric and inconsiderate of our dear father.”
“But big sister Eveline, this is such a grand event. You should be more cheerful and optimistic!”
“Nonsense, nonsense!” shouted Resiollan, even though she could not grasp the content of the conversation.
“Ponepella, don’t you understand it? Lord Franngton is simply adjusting his own ideas. He is acting like a complete patriarch.”
“Oh, don’t be such a pessimist, Eveline. Though he is a patriarch, he is our father, and I think it is quite fortunate for us to have a father.”
Lord Franngton was disconcerted with Eveline’s attitude, and he wished to say something Machiavellian, but he did not know how, so he just decided to resist the temptation of showing his masculine power.
“Dear sisters,” faintly mumbled Saraht. If you all remember, it was the Earl trapped in the body of a woman.
“What is wrong, Saraht?” asked Resiollan. She was getting bored, and she hoped that Saraht would say something graceful as always.
“I am sorry to say this, but we are all getting late for the ball,” said Saraht, this time in an innocent voice, like a chirping bird, and that settled the heated argument for the evening.
Piano Sonata Number 3.
She was flying. The earl was flying. Saraht was making these elaborate T-shaped moves. The earl was dancing.
It was a thematic duet of two souls breathing in unison.
However, now she has stopped dancing; after all, she had a specific goal to attend this ball.
This goal of hers was simple and elegant.
He wanted to find him. His body containing someone else’s soul. Saraht’s soul.
He searched the room, glancing over the fundamentals of the glacier. The glacier was cold and creaking.
Like a typewriter, it was creaking.
Too-du. Too-du…
Dom-dom… Dom-dom…
He found him. The earl finally found the shade of his outer appearance.
“Excuse me, sir, don’t you recognise me?” The earl in Saraht’s body finally started a conversation.
However, Saraht, who ought to be in the earl’s body, confusedly stared at him.
“My lady, do you know me?”
Death
The little girl felt like her whole flesh had been pulled apart. She then felt a tiny needle pressing near her heart.
Once again, her soul was trying to possess the body of the girl named Peach Mitani. However, she was now feeling the excruciating pain in her ears. She looked at her hands. Her hands were trembling. She felt another pain in her chest. She wanted to get that needle out of her heart.
She wanted to open her chest and heart and finally be free.
She could do that. She could do that at any minute. She just needed to sleep and accept her fate. Her body was just lying there, waiting for her to return.
She can sleep now. She has done well. She dared not bear the excruciating pain anymore.
She turned her head, ready to give in to her fate. She noticed something then.
It was a boy. He was lying on a road.
His body was lying there, too, waiting for someone to possess it.
She rushed out to him.
The Feeling Before Death
“It is midnight. Time to go to the enchanted forest,” whispered the head eunuch.
It was chilly outside, and Peach Mitani immediately felt regretful that she had left her small, comfortable cottage.
The healing herbs were located on the top of the moonlit-crowned temple.
Nomadic steppes were flat; however, unlike the steppes, forest areas were infested with mountains and hills.
Peach Mitani could not hold her breath anymore. Her heart rate was dropping. She was already tired.
“Are we there?” she asked.
“Not yet,” answered the head eunuch.
“But I am so tired.”
“You are really weak, aren’t you?” he said.
‘Hmm… Where did I hear that before?' thought Peach Mitani.
Being intelligent and smart wasn’t exactly her main forte. Her brain just could not retain information all at once, and she had always felt like her brain was going to explode. If she could time-travel once again, she would have chosen to be born as a jellyfish. Snow-white and wavery, the jellyfish was the perfect vessel for the next metempsychosis. Perhaps she could swim and waver with the wuthering tides of waves. She would feel so free and at peace. But there were other alternatives, of course, and she was talking about the nirvana-nightingale. Nirvana-Nightingale was the most intelligent being in the whole universe, for this creature had 800 billion neurons in one of its brain cells. It was tight and beautiful like a jellyfish, and its natural habitat was the deep end of the ocean.
Peach Mitani has never seen the ocean. They did not have that in here. It was all steppe and hills.
“We should go higher,” said the head eunuch.
They were now climbing higher and higher. There were low steps, and there were high steps. She felt her pulse. She was feeling her pulse, and she knew that she was alive. She was happy to be alive, and that was strange.
The call of the wilderness was calling to her. They were at the spot—she was seeing the top of the moonlit-crowned temple.
It was beautiful… It was beautiful, but its cosmic grandeur made her skin crawl. She was terrified.
The door of the temple was only three feet from her. She stretched her legs, and she felt weak and humbled.
The head eunuch got to the door and opened it.
“Why don’t you go in there first?” he said, smiling. “There are a lot of things to be done.”
“Right,” she smiled.
“Oh, and don’t forget to gather your healing herbs right before dawn, or it will be more difficult to dry them,” he warned her.
“I won’t,” she answered.
Peach Mitani immediately went down to the tombstone. She heard her echo, and it was eerie for her ears.
There were different kinds of flower-candies in there: candies, oranges, caramels, and sticky watermelons. She saw the different colors of their inner strength, and it all felt bizarre.
There was this color—violet. There was the color blue. She saw the color violet and the different shades of purple.
She smelled the red one. It was sweet and strong, and its smell hung and tugged.
Peach Mitani touched her nose, and she instantly knew that it was the healing herbs.
The healing herbs did not look that appealing. It was not astonishingly beautiful, but it looked neat and clean.
She carefully folded the edge of the healing flower and smiled. That was what she was looking for. That was exactly what she was looking for. So she touched the prickly side of the lower side of the flower lightly when she felt something stuck on the back of her frock.
She tried to get off the thing on her back, but it would not come off. If it were an animal, there would be a big problem.
She got up and slowly turned her head. The head eunuch was standing right before her. He was holding a silver dagger.
It was glistening, and there was blood on it. The blood was red and fresh.
That was when Peach Mitani realized that it was not an animal on her back that was making her uncomfortable, but her blood sticking like a stitch.
"Oh, how unfortunate, my frock," that was the only thing that she could think of.
The head eunuch came close to her. His eyes were round and dark. She could feel his breath on her neck.
Now she was frightened. She was frightened because she knew that she was not dead yet. She could still survive. She held the head eunuch’s hand.
“Please,” she whimpered.
“Don’t move. It won’t hurt,” he said and stabbed her heart. He repeatedly stabbed her heart.
She closed her eyes, and she felt a sudden desire to fall asleep.
She was not feeling any pain, but her brain was overstimulated, and for the first time, she knew that she was right to be suspicious. There was really something wrong, and it all felt too easy. She knew that something was missing.
‘He must be that assassin who had tried to kill me,’ she thought, and there was darkness.
The Enchanted April
Some people are happy, but some people are unhappy, or perhaps they are just lonely.
Today, I want to discuss and recommend one of my favorite books that kind of gets ignored. You may have heard about this book, but mostly people seem not to be as interested as in other famous books, such as “Pride and Prejudice” and “Jane Eyre,” and I must say that this book has a very beautiful name, “The Enchanted April."
“The Enchanted April” was written by an author named Elizabeth Von Armin in 1922. The premise for this story is simple. Four women, dissatisfied with their lives, decide to rent together the castle of their dreams, and therefore, their fates collide. Each of them has its own story to tell, and each of them is fed up with its everyday routine. Those four women are not similar, though; they are very different people.
This book cannot be classified as a Gothic book or even as a love story. Of course, there is a little bit of romance in there, but I must say that the main theme of this book is “loneliness and magic.” There are no elves in there. There are not even hobbits in there, but there is definitely magic in there. The magic of finding the right kind of people. The magic of being understood and the magic of the spring and the Italian landscape.
I read “The Enchanted April” ironically in April. I was sitting in a cafe, and I was feeling sad. I was kind of lost and flabbergasted. But when I read this book, my spirit lifted, and I was smiling, and I was chuckling. I felt like I drank an orange soda and ate a little bit of rainbow cake.
In conclusion, I would compare “The Enchanted April” to light-hearted books hiding beneath their surface, something tragic, and some serious problems that tend to get ignored. Reader, you are going to like this book if you enjoyed reading books such as “Anne of the Green Gables," “The Blue Castle," and Ray Bradbury’s “Dandelion Wine.”
Magical Creature Fulfilling your Wish (ASMR Writing)
He appeared before her. He inquired: “Isn’t it too dull to lie down here?”
“No, it is not, sir,” that was her answer.
He felt the urge to inspect her, so he danced his way out of heaven's doom. In heavenly bliss, he touched her nails. “What are these on your nails?” he asked.
She did not answer.
“Do you desire something?” he asked again.
The little girl suddenly realized that the magical creature was not inspecting her nails anymore.
He was fidgeting, and he was flying. There was a magic before her.
“How about I grant you any wish? Perhaps you want two unicorns mixed with the race of a dragon?” he asked.
“But that won’t do,” he answered himself. “Right, I think the golden apple…
The thing is that we are all playing a game. The game has a progression, and the rule is simple. Players will pick a character for themselves and play to their utmost in the role that has been chosen. It’s like playing a game of liars—all participants will lie and act, and a Leviathan will eat the one who cannot act.
