Drusilla

First Line(s)For those within, there comes a time of day that has no name. It is the dying afternoon, telling of twilight and the threat of night, mourning the hours of the sun. A time of melancholy.Drusilla was familiar with it. She had always supposed it to be the hour in which Claude Debussy had been inspired to compose his 'Afternoon of a Fawn': that tinkling lament for the lost felicity of the day and a satyr promise of eroticism beneath the moon. Its mood weighed heavily upon her solitude.