Out of thought and situation, I have been randomly writing the start of what seems to be a Victorian tale. A novel; following an upper class family, but more closely following through the world that made and surrounded such people during that time. The emphasis being on two sisters by the name of Eliza and Katharine from a young age, later spiraling into damaging loss and Victorian prostitution with themes of engaging experiences, dark eroticism and historic romanticism, spanning from around 1850 to 1905.


Well lets hope I still give a fuck in a months time. Roughly from the outset, the general story evolves from Eliza and Katherine’s mother and father mysteriously disappearing, leaving them and the country estate to ruins; to then have the two young daughters sent to London. Living with their distant uncle (to whom does not share the same class/wealth), things somehow then lead into a different world for the two; of Victorian prostitution as mentioned for the older sister and for the youngest? Well, the rest is yet to unfold and left to the imagination, for now.

Here’s a small rough & incomplete extract from Chapter One titled Swan Song:

Running through the courtyard while Adella, our nanny chased my sister with a cane for not exhibiting proper behavior  as mother says, during our study time. If mother were here I fear Adella would have more trouble on her hands than Katherine being the tyrant that she is. Often mother would not dare to even set foot into our nursery, since she sees fit to only entertain fathers important friends and evening parties. Although I remember her once joining Katherine and I as we played with the most beautiful china dolls that father had brought us from the furthest lands imaginable.

That evening as the manor routinely awaited the return of mother and father, I over heard the housekeeper, a very short but broad and shrouding figure of a woman who seemed to wonder without the need of lifting knees as she stepped; she was discussing the households accounts with the butler. How strange since the butler had just began working here for a few weeks, but seemed to know more than a freshly planted seed would have sprouted roots to its surroundings.

I suddenly realised the quite murmurs had stopped as I balanced on my toes, leaning forward as if the slightly open door would allow for a church mouse to be overheard. “Young child”, I stumbled backwards in shock. “hasn’t your nanny taught you that it is rude to have such wondering ears.” The housekeeper quietly exclaimed. “No ma’am! I mean, I was just sloothing like the stories Adella reads to us.” The housekeeper then lent down, pressing me between the wall and her eclipsing figure. “Run along dear”, she eerily whispered. “Such stories are not for children.” I stood there as she allowed me a narrow passage of escape. For such a busy estate, I wondered why someone could not have rushed by and rescued me from this situation. Looking back up at the housekeeper triggered my legs to move briskly running towards the direction of Adella…

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