His voice, crisp like apple vodka, poured into the September air. “The chandelier is decadent, yes, but its existence is an act of defiance,” he said, raising an ink-stained finger. “It is delicate, doomed by its delicacy. It will break. This is certain. And yet, until then, it insists on its noble fragility. It will not compromise its vision to suit the environment.” — “
#23: Enter The Octagon (Of Holidays.)
#23: Enter The Octagon (Of Holidays.)
#23: Enter The Octagon (Of Holidays.)
His voice, crisp like apple vodka, poured into the September air. “The chandelier is decadent, yes, but its existence is an act of defiance,” he said, raising an ink-stained finger. “It is delicate, doomed by its delicacy. It will break. This is certain. And yet, until then, it insists on its noble fragility. It will not compromise its vision to suit the environment.” — “