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curtain
 
"And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain, Thrilled me filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before."

~Edgar Allen Poe




 

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Her favorite view in the room. Not that there was much else to look at…Walls…nothing but walls and then this, her secret portal. It wasn't just a view to the outside world, it was the curtains. They had so much meaning. Brought back memories, the only ones she chose to hold on to. The others did not know what made her smile. The smile that one gets when they are truly happy. They could not hear the music. It was in her head the minute she started rocking back and forth. It was a waltz. Curtain call. The dance, the stage, the audience, the applause, the nerves. It made her feel alive again. No matter what, she could look at this curtain and be brought back to that place in her soul that no one else could reach. A place of happiness. As I am lost in thought, absorbed in the photograph, I hear a whisper in my ear… "there are other places for you to visit, there are more stories to tell…" My mind then slips back into the photograph and the view of the curtains and I too can hear the music...
-- Melanie, 2/17/12

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