. . .

Shhhh… can you hear that?

There’s nothing. Not a single, solitary sound.

I don’t know if they all took off to go to some “imaginary friend” xmas party (invite ONLY), but nobody’s home tonight. Well, except for me and I’m no fun at all. So there will be no writing this evening; instead, I shall read a book – huzzah!

But I must share what it means to have that lot (the Muse Chorus) back in town:

Ohhhhh tidings of comfort and braaaaaaaainssss…

Yes, that is a zombie angel xmas ornament. Yes, her eye is hanging by its optic nerve. And yes, her skull is cracked open at the back (and that pink “rope” sticking out from under her skirt is entrails). Hilde and her fellow dancers of the World Famous Tyrolean Ballet were victims of a tragic theatre gaslight fire. Tulle and open flame… *tsk tsk*

But look at her adorable tutu with its beaded waistband! And her little sparkly wings! And the crystals on her slippers! Deity is in the details ;)

That is what happens when you have them in charge of Creative Operations. Mayhem.

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