[ at the steps of alucard's opera house rests a paper-wrapped gift blooming profusely from its seams with long-stemmed paper flowers in dizzying greens and reds and oranges splayed along the painted watercolours of a rising, winter-morning dawn pale with still-visible pinpricks of mourning stars.
unwrapped, there is a sketchpad. within its pages are five separate blueprints. it is difficult to call them blueprints so much as they are dreams - design renderings of the opera house's interior made into a home. one version sports a bedroom on the second floor designed out of the current loft with a double set of staircases that double as the roof for a small study. another has the entire section beneath the stage hollowed out for a set of rooms with low ceilings where a piano might fit in a renovated study. yet another has a spiral staircase ascending from the stage, a narrow stairway to heaven which connects the stage with the loft above, which has been transformed into a landing entranceway for alucard's accommodations.
each is a dream. each is incomplete. the rest of the pages of empty, save for the last one: a hazy sketch of alucard in his gala finery in motion, turning towards the viewer.
the note: ]
To Alucard,
When thinking of a gift to present to you for the longest night of the year, my thoughts once again turned to the opera house. You mentioned that you intend on renovating it into a place that is more like a home. I have come up with five flights of fancy. None of them are complete as none of them have your input. All of them are mere dreams of what the opera house could be, or might be in another time, another place. But should you have need to actualise a dream into reality, do let me know, and I shall endeavor to help.
May your coming year be as sweet as watermelon, and as fruitful as pomegranates.
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delivery. backdated to whichever day was the winter solstice in this city!
unwrapped, there is a sketchpad. within its pages are five separate blueprints. it is difficult to call them blueprints so much as they are dreams - design renderings of the opera house's interior made into a home. one version sports a bedroom on the second floor designed out of the current loft with a double set of staircases that double as the roof for a small study. another has the entire section beneath the stage hollowed out for a set of rooms with low ceilings where a piano might fit in a renovated study. yet another has a spiral staircase ascending from the stage, a narrow stairway to heaven which connects the stage with the loft above, which has been transformed into a landing entranceway for alucard's accommodations.
each is a dream. each is incomplete. the rest of the pages of empty, save for the last one: a hazy sketch of alucard in his gala finery in motion, turning towards the viewer.
the note: ]
To Alucard,
When thinking of a gift to present to you for the longest night of the year, my thoughts once again turned to the opera house. You mentioned that you intend on renovating it into a place that is more like a home. I have come up with five flights of fancy. None of them are complete as none of them have your input. All of them are mere dreams of what the opera house could be, or might be in another time, another place. But should you have need to actualise a dream into reality, do let me know, and I shall endeavor to help.
May your coming year be as sweet as watermelon, and as fruitful as pomegranates.
With kind regards,
Kaveh