Cherry Blossom Depression Glass の小説・ストーリー

Standing in front of the table, Loathefiya watched in amazement the beautiful glass bottles carrying in them different varieties of color, in each one of them. What the girl noticed was flowers were printed on each glass were like rose, it had same color of liquid just like red liquid in it, blue liquid was for iris and green was for jasmine. The magnificent sight and the fragrance of the bottles enchanted in the girl’s heart by their rare beauty. Unable to hesitated her hands, she lifted them and picked up a perfume that pleasant her heart and soul with the fragrance of it. The shop-attender got her glimpse at her, admiring the enjoyment of the small girl she asked kindly,

The fruity scent of the cocktail mixed with something slightly bitter as the pills dissolved completely. As soon as she was done, she put a cherry on the drink with the laxatives and picked another similar glass with the same cocktail in it, but without the cherry, and turned to face the room. The cherry bobbed on the surface like a tiny red life preserver, innocent and inviting. Both glasses looked identical in the dim lighting, their pink contents catching the soft glow from the overhead fixtures.

“I dislike surprises.” “Yes,” Hart said dryly. “We know.” Nyx approached the table once more, tray now replaced with something… different. A slender glass decanter filled with a deep crimson liquid. Two shot glasses. And a third placed directly in front of Noah. “This is part of our private service selection,” Nyx explained . “A curated experience for guests seeking something beyond the ordinary.” Noah didn’t touch the glass. “Define beyond the ordinary,” he said. Nyx’s lips curved faintly. “An indulgence of the human senses.”

It was a love story in its purest form—the quiet, steady rebuilding of two souls that had been dismantled by the world. But the ticking never stopped. As the sun began to set, casting long, purple shadows across the peaks, I noticed the light in the room change. It wasn't the golden glow of the sunset. It was a faint, sickly green, emanating from the dresser where Jinyan had left the glass of water. I stood up, my heart sinking. I walked to the dresser and looked at the glass. The silver flake had grown. It was no longer a crystal; it was a structure. It looked like a miniature version of the underwater cathedral, a complex, geometric lattice of emerald glass that was pulsing in time with th

The champagne in the crystal flute was vintage Dom Pérignon, 1996. It tasted like apples, brioche, and patience. Isabella Voss stood at the window of her penthouse on Fifth Avenue, looking down at the park. From the forty-second floor, the trees were just dark stains on the canvas of the city, and the cars were bioluminescent beetles crawling through the concrete veins. It was quiet up here. The kind of silence that cost fifty million dollars. The kind of silence that suffocated screams.

Rieka I was hiding behind the stage at the end of the banquet hall, taking everything in as I waited for the union to start. The long, antique wooden tables featured simple, clear glass pillar vases with faux flowers anchored in clear, iridescent glass beads, filled with water, and topped with a simple floating tea candle. Each vase contained a different-colored flower with a candle that accentuated it. The simple, relaxing look highlighted the fact that the tables were filled with pack members who were happy to be there and share the day with Jo, Sam, and Sylvia.

Cherry blossom trees lined the streets, their delicate petals dancing in the breeze, as Luna ventured into a world of rich cultural heritage. Her first stop was the iconic Kinkaku-ji, also known as the Golden Pavilion. Luna marveled at the shimmering golden structure reflected in the calm waters of the surrounding pond. She wandered through the meticulously manicured gardens, taking in the serene beauty that surrounded her. The peaceful atmosphere and stunning architecture left Luna in awe of the craftsmanship and attention to detail.