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Description
This was taken in my sisters' dorm room at UofO, which felt like a carpeted prison. Her and I would walk around late at night and marvel at its strange vibes. Campus was great for late night shoots...all you had to do was dodge the security guards! Anyways, this was a tripod shot due to the low light and the shadows ended up looking very nice. Contrary to the title, it is not a film still. But it looks like it could be! Her and I did a series of spooky cinematic poses, this being one of the first I printed.
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© 2003 - 2024 suspirite
Comments8
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Really, really awesome. So eerie! Really great. The photo totally just creates her character and a storyline in my head.
She's that mysterious woman who has that uknown something that makes men intrigued by her. Ahh! It inspired me! I just wrote a short story! Lol. Here it is:
Looking at her like this, I'd never know she was mad. She seemed not completely sane, never completely sane, but collected in her emerald green evening gown, sipping on martinis and chatting slowly, seductively with the bartender.
I watched her move and sway her hips to the faded music.
She sucked at her cigarette, blowing the smoke out then inhaling it like love. Hypnotizing.
When I had first seen her, months ago, she had me glued to her web instantly. She was her own bait, her own parasite, waiting to feed on my naivety. I was twenty-two. She was ageless. Infinite. I asked her her age once. She closed her eyes and moved her lips silently, as if reading a book.
"I am endless," she said. "I am the plasma in your blood, the icy droplets in a cloud. I have no age." She opened her eyes suddenly. "Would you like some cake?" she had asked.
I watched the bartender smile that stoned smile mine had duplicated when we first met.
I wanted to wish I hadn't spent those four weeks with her in Peru. I wanted to swear on the Bible that I hated her slender neck and bony fingers. I wanted to preach that she never had me, that I was never her puppet. But the truth was that I was never hers. Nobody ever had her.
I thought she was alive, then. Everything about her seemed lively. We danced until sunset on the middle of the streets and she'd stroke my hair. She was intoxicating. At dawn, she told me she needed her beauty rest to reenergize, like a battery.
I was staying in the room across from hers in the hotel, and I told her I would call out to her in the evening so we could go dancing again. I loved watching her dance. She was a silver flame, acid rain, and Amarige perfume as she swayed in the night, her blonde hair a shadow.
She kissed my forehead, au revoir, and in that moment I became invisible to her. I silently followed her up the stairs to our hotel floor as she completely ignored my presence. Once she said goodbye in her world, she was alone.
At a quarter to eight, I stood in my doorway of the Peruvian hotel and called out to her.
Across the hallway on the other side of her door, she was in her hotel room, stroking a black cat she had snuck in. She sat in her twisted nightgown, singing broken verses to songs about love. The cat purred as her fingers shook and twitched in rhythm to her song. She heard my voice outside her room. She straightend her nightgown and opened the door leading to the hallway.
"Hello?" she said teasingly, her eye twitching
Her eyeliner was smeared, and for a moment I forgot she wasn't of this world and wondered if she had been crying. Of course, she wasn't. She never cried, she was immortal.
"Come here, darling." I whispered.
"Nooobody there," she sang.
"Baby, it's me," I cooed across the hall, " Frank." I stepped out of my room and stepped into the light.
She stopped. "Frank? Ohh, of course. The milk man." The left side of her mouth smiled.
I didn't understand, for a moment. I thought she was playing a joke on me. She looked so utterly different than usual. There were no fireflies in her hair. No notes playing on her skin. She looked insane. My smile faded as the force of her words hit me. She didn't recognize me at all.
"Baby, don't you remember me?" I croaked.
She shifted her weight and a the lace nightgown dipped off her shoulder like a star. She stared at me for a moment and I could see that her eyes were on fire in the dimness of the hallway.
"Afraid not, m'sieur." She went back inside, humming unconsciously.
I had stepped too deep into her web and gotten stuck in the silk, I now analyzed.
I watched her now, spinning her crazy web over not just the bartender, but over the entire room. They were all drawn to her like flies. I was suffocating in her scent.
I breathed in one last breath of her poison, then exited.
She didn't feel me go. Then again, she had never really known I was there.
-----------
You see what you made me do?!?! You made me write something that I actually LIKE! I haven't done that in months! I LOVE YOU!
She's that mysterious woman who has that uknown something that makes men intrigued by her. Ahh! It inspired me! I just wrote a short story! Lol. Here it is:
Looking at her like this, I'd never know she was mad. She seemed not completely sane, never completely sane, but collected in her emerald green evening gown, sipping on martinis and chatting slowly, seductively with the bartender.
I watched her move and sway her hips to the faded music.
She sucked at her cigarette, blowing the smoke out then inhaling it like love. Hypnotizing.
When I had first seen her, months ago, she had me glued to her web instantly. She was her own bait, her own parasite, waiting to feed on my naivety. I was twenty-two. She was ageless. Infinite. I asked her her age once. She closed her eyes and moved her lips silently, as if reading a book.
"I am endless," she said. "I am the plasma in your blood, the icy droplets in a cloud. I have no age." She opened her eyes suddenly. "Would you like some cake?" she had asked.
I watched the bartender smile that stoned smile mine had duplicated when we first met.
I wanted to wish I hadn't spent those four weeks with her in Peru. I wanted to swear on the Bible that I hated her slender neck and bony fingers. I wanted to preach that she never had me, that I was never her puppet. But the truth was that I was never hers. Nobody ever had her.
I thought she was alive, then. Everything about her seemed lively. We danced until sunset on the middle of the streets and she'd stroke my hair. She was intoxicating. At dawn, she told me she needed her beauty rest to reenergize, like a battery.
I was staying in the room across from hers in the hotel, and I told her I would call out to her in the evening so we could go dancing again. I loved watching her dance. She was a silver flame, acid rain, and Amarige perfume as she swayed in the night, her blonde hair a shadow.
She kissed my forehead, au revoir, and in that moment I became invisible to her. I silently followed her up the stairs to our hotel floor as she completely ignored my presence. Once she said goodbye in her world, she was alone.
At a quarter to eight, I stood in my doorway of the Peruvian hotel and called out to her.
Across the hallway on the other side of her door, she was in her hotel room, stroking a black cat she had snuck in. She sat in her twisted nightgown, singing broken verses to songs about love. The cat purred as her fingers shook and twitched in rhythm to her song. She heard my voice outside her room. She straightend her nightgown and opened the door leading to the hallway.
"Hello?" she said teasingly, her eye twitching
Her eyeliner was smeared, and for a moment I forgot she wasn't of this world and wondered if she had been crying. Of course, she wasn't. She never cried, she was immortal.
"Come here, darling." I whispered.
"Nooobody there," she sang.
"Baby, it's me," I cooed across the hall, " Frank." I stepped out of my room and stepped into the light.
She stopped. "Frank? Ohh, of course. The milk man." The left side of her mouth smiled.
I didn't understand, for a moment. I thought she was playing a joke on me. She looked so utterly different than usual. There were no fireflies in her hair. No notes playing on her skin. She looked insane. My smile faded as the force of her words hit me. She didn't recognize me at all.
"Baby, don't you remember me?" I croaked.
She shifted her weight and a the lace nightgown dipped off her shoulder like a star. She stared at me for a moment and I could see that her eyes were on fire in the dimness of the hallway.
"Afraid not, m'sieur." She went back inside, humming unconsciously.
I had stepped too deep into her web and gotten stuck in the silk, I now analyzed.
I watched her now, spinning her crazy web over not just the bartender, but over the entire room. They were all drawn to her like flies. I was suffocating in her scent.
I breathed in one last breath of her poison, then exited.
She didn't feel me go. Then again, she had never really known I was there.
-----------
You see what you made me do?!?! You made me write something that I actually LIKE! I haven't done that in months! I LOVE YOU!