reliquaries

Been working on a new series of vintage perfume bottle necklaces:

White Rose, Red Heart

You only get one true love.
People who say otherwise have never felt true passion, I know this now. Oh do I know it.
Each day I awaken, hoping these last weeks were all a nightmare and she is still lying next to me, her hair shining in the morning sunlight.
Each night I lie in that same bed, tossing and turning, the haunting smell of her perfume a sweet torture to my soul. I caress the tiny bottle as if a genie would appear to grant me my three wishes, although each wish would be the same: Bring her back, oh please, bring her back.


The Syrens Have Won

My dearest Love,
By now you will surely have given up on the sea returning me to your side, and I do not mean this note to give you false hope. I am gone, the victim of my own fickle heart in an act of betrayal I must ashamedly confess to you. I was lured by the singing, the otherworldly voices just beyond the rocks. For an instant, I confused her blonde tresses with yours, my love. Please forgive me my trespass, by the time I saw the coldness in her eyes, I was already too far gone.

Enclosed in this bottle you will find the only things I have left in this world to give to you. I hope you will take these jewels for a new life, a happy life with a better man.

The map is a warning.

Please do not mourn my foolishness, for I am unworthy of your pity. I am just a shell of a man who fell for the songs of the Syren.


Bones of Fairies Past

The old woman had always been a mystery – shut into her apartment with the funniest little noises. Some neighbors thought her haunted, others insane, but the little girl downstairs knew the truth. Over the years the noises grew less and less frequent until the girl’s 14th birthday when the door was simply open, dust motes sparkling in the sunshine, but not much else inside.
She crept beyond the squeaking hinges and went room by room looking for something, anything to explain the sudden disappearance. About to give up, in despair that the grown ups had thrown away her mystery, she heard a tiny giggle coming from the empty closet. There, back in the corner of the uppermost shelf lay a tiny jar and a note:

Please care for her bones, they are all I had left of her in this world. You cannot pronounce her true name, but she will answer to Violet.

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