Thought I would give you an update on my writing (I know you guys are excited, all 3 of you). In typical PD fashion, I rewrote it. Enjoy.
The house of Crough Matheston was silent. The smallest sliver of moonlight cut through the only window in the one roomed house and left a pale blue streak, which lied on the floor and leaned against the walls. The light of a dying flame flickered in a single candle, which rested in a pool of dirty black wax, oozing it’s way to the edge of the desk that it sat on. Full of books, trinkets, and other oddities, it was the site of much research and work. On both sides of the desk were tall wooden cases. An assortment of colored jars shimmered like jewels in the candles light. Small bottles full of dried herbs, vials of squirming liquids, a large jug that contained what looked like a small tree, and many other strange objects found themselves stuffed in glass containers and placed carelessly in their cases.
Pages upon pages of handwritten notes were pinned to the walls and the ceiling. They were written in black ink, and contained notes of wild beasts and plants, as well as maps that have long since been outdated. Most of the pages were connected with red string, and were labelled with tiny pieces of paper. It made the room a tangled web of threads. The notes that couldn’t fit on the walls were lazily bound into large leather books, and were stacked into the dark and lonely corners of the room, which grew larger by the minute.
The old candle dimmed like the tired sun, setting beyond the horizon for her long rest. Darkness slithered its way towards the desk, and as the vibrant shine of the bottles dulled, the red spiderweb faded to black. Wind that didn’t exist made the candle flicker and dance in the black pool that surrounded the fire, with only a charred wick for it to stand on. The small light stood alone in the vast nothingness, and as the flame drowned in its own melted wax, the deep abyss swallowed the room whole.