The Diary of Lord Kellington (13)

I awoke early this evening, Just as I had planned. I wanted to see a sunset. I wanted....to feel. As I sit and contemplate the blisters upon my hand, I realize the truth. That bloody hurt! What was I thinking? What was I wanting? What did I expect? Why did I even seek the sun? Am I wanting true death? I don't think so. Have I outlived my usefullness? Perish the thought. I must chalk it up to my love of beauty. My love of all things mystery to me. I know my tailor sews my clothes, but how he comes up with the designs, is a mystery. I know my cat is hidding mice within my lair. I can smell them, hear them. This is a mystery as to why she does so. My latest cloak is mystery itself. So dark an indigo, as to be night. The lining so dark a red, as to be blood. With pockets of every shape and size sewn within. Each pocket lined with butter soft leather. There are even places to obscure the presence of a knife. I have decided it will be my new Mourning cloak. Worn when dining. Perhaps a small souvenir tucked here and there within those lovely pockets. No! That I will never do. There are rules and etiquette to be followed. Ah, the moon shines now upon my desk. The clock is ticking. My night time fun ends quickly. A last stroke of the quill. A last kiss upon a mangy, rat smelling head of crystal and I am off. ~Lord Kellington