Apr 7, 2015
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. And then, one not-so-very special day, I went to my typewriter, I sat down, and I wrote our story.
Incerpt from ‘Untitled Ryder Lynn Project; Our Story’; [publish date unknown]
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Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. And then, one not-so-very special day, I went to my typewriter, I sat down, and I wrote our story.
Incerpt from ‘Untitled Ryder Lynn Project; Our Story’; [publish date unknown]
I wanted to shut out what Artie had said, but he had filled me with doubt. There was only one way to be sure. I had to know. So I returned to the Moulin Rouge……one last time.
Incerpt from ‘Untitled Ryder Lynn Project; Our Story’; [publish date unknown]
Incerpt from ‘Untitled Ryder Lynn Project; Our Story’; [publish date unknown]
“How could I know,
In those last, fatal days, That a force darker than jealousy And greater than love Had begun to take hold of Kitty?”
“The Moulin Rouge. A night club, a dance hall and a bordello. Ruled over by William Schuester. A kingdom of night time pleasures. Where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. The most beautiful of these was the one I loved. Kitty. A night club escort. She sold her love to men. They called her the 'Sparkling Diamond', and she was the star of the Moulin Rouge. The woman I loved is…dead.”