Go to Sleep, Darlings... “I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields It covers them snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, Go to Sleep, Darlings, till the summer comes again.” Lewis Carroll
Bat, bathing in the moonlight, at midnight, in the dark, in the woods, alone.
Happy Saint Patrick's Day! ☘️
An Afterlife To Love
What's not to love? A quiet wild where your home is a little cottage secluded in the wood no one knows exists. Alone, with your cats and your books.
In life on earth, I was never one for being a social butterfly. I found it such a chore and so exhausting being in company. I preferred retiring home with my cats; they were my favored companions. Don't get me wrong, I do like, some people. I like some ghosts: they never really change when they die. But living quietly with the sound of my cat's purr on my lap, a good book to read, my 8th cup of coffee, and the birds singing in the garden makes an afterlife to love.
A perfect stormy night for a good sleep, the old ghost thought.
It poured and rained, such a sweet sleep filled with dreams of his earthly life and memories. Stormy, stormy, stormy weather was his favorite weather.
And then, the sounds of the thundering storm were interrupted by the breaking of glass. Ghost got out of bed and went downstairs to investigate who had disturbed his sleep: a baby owl; perched on the broken window pane. Maggie and Bat were wondering why he was there.
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Bat, Maggie, and their ghost are in their Victorian cottage hidden in the secret woods no one knows.
"Maybe, we do go home, finally " - Anne Rice
"Believe nothing you hear and half of what you see."
As I mentioned before, these paintings are almost complete. If I feel something I've missed in the process, I will return to it and add in hopefully, removing nothing else from the illustration. Editing not only the writing but the illustrations as well. Some may never make it into the book.
A mother/daughter Ghostly Adventure, writing together for the first time about their favorite subject, the supernatural.
♥️ Annabelle & M ♥️
© 2023
