Inexplicably, there were dryads wandering around the lobby of my building today, and one posed for a picture with me:
Mr. Tumnus told her about the midnight dances and how the Nymphs who lived in the wells and the Dryads who lived in the trees came out to dance with the Fauns; about long hunting parties after the milk-white stag who could give you wishes if you caught him . . .
1 comment:
Your skirt is lovely and very becoming. And a memorable meeting, that.
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