The stories live on


Once, a long time ago, I lived for a summer at my grandma’s farm. The farmhouse had a cellar built in the 1700s, dug into the hard cold New York bedrock, retaining the cold even in the depths of the summer. Down in the cellar, when it was pitch dark, I always felt as though the floor would open to reveal the past still trapped there. Down through years and stories, in ghostly stories deep into the earth, with all of the people who’d ever lived in the house lingering and trying to tell their stories. What is a human life but a story? I honor my relatives today by remembering their stories and telling them to my child, so that she can also hear the voices from the earth and the past.

The ones we've lost

Boots: Lassitude & Ennui wanderlust – black duotones
Eyes: Plastik Jerusalem BrownSea
Hair: Fashionably Dead Flowers – Orange 8
Shirt: Amerie’s halloween hunt shirt, mesh in medium
Hat: Amerie’s halloween hunt Lapin hat
Scarf: Shop Sey for LOxKE Halloween group gift
Socks: Pig – Duotone Socks with suspenders – black metal
Skin: Pink Fuel Dia de los Muertos (rose)
Necklace: Violet Voltaire Dia de los Muertos necklace
Sim: Mieville Shelley

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