©Seth F. Weaver, Sr. 10/03/12. A sad tale of an unhappy soul. A lovely lady who preferred to live in her past, would escape each day in her big lonely old house to her secluded attic. There she would dress in her antique finery and sit in front of her floor length mirror and carry on conversations with her memories. Talk to people that had discarded or forgotten her. Dreaming of lost loves who cared no more. She would spend hours talking and singing as her world changed around her. Each visit to the attic became longer and longer until her health made it hard for her to get there. She finally kissed the real world good bye and went to her attic and locked the door behind her. There she died among her memories and the spiders wove a silk shawl around her to hold her dreams. A bittersweet life. A mixed media work=Compullage™ and Scribblertool.
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