Morphine and Gossamer
by: Marilyn, My Bitterness
Author's Note: This is a two part demonstration essay that I wrote about Ghost in English class, 9th grade. I got full marks on it, and I've decided to share it with my fellow Poppy Z. Brite fans. Hopefully, you as the reader will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. The first part is the exerpt from the book that I used, which does not belong to me in the least. I'm only posting it for the reader to understand just what the following essay was about. Now the second page, however, does belong to me. So ... enjoy! And please .... tell me what you think of it. The favour will be returned ::winks::
.:: Exerpt from -Lost Souls- Taken from pages 195- 196. ::.
"The audience was a sea. The music pulled like the Mississippi; he could be swept away, he could drown. But drowning might be sweet. In his throat, his voice was thick wine. The pale hands snatched it and bore it up on a cloud of clove smoke. For those children Ghost sang harder, letting his voice soar, pushing it down deep and gravelly, strining it out in a howl like a shimmering gold wire.
Between him and Steve, the electricity crackled. Ghost clenched his hands in front of him, raised his face to the gilded ceiling. Steve shook his head madly. His hair stood out like a scribbled black cloud. Sparkling drops of sweat landed sizzling on his guitar, on the audience, on Ghost's upturned face. Ghost licked the sweat off his lips and tried to breathe. There was no breath left in him. The audience had taken it all. In him there was only song, endlessly swelling. If he did not let it out his heart would burst."
by: Marilyn, My Bitterness
Author's Note: This is a two part demonstration essay that I wrote about Ghost in English class, 9th grade. I got full marks on it, and I've decided to share it with my fellow Poppy Z. Brite fans. Hopefully, you as the reader will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. The first part is the exerpt from the book that I used, which does not belong to me in the least. I'm only posting it for the reader to understand just what the following essay was about. Now the second page, however, does belong to me. So ... enjoy! And please .... tell me what you think of it. The favour will be returned ::winks::
.:: Exerpt from -Lost Souls- Taken from pages 195- 196. ::.
"The audience was a sea. The music pulled like the Mississippi; he could be swept away, he could drown. But drowning might be sweet. In his throat, his voice was thick wine. The pale hands snatched it and bore it up on a cloud of clove smoke. For those children Ghost sang harder, letting his voice soar, pushing it down deep and gravelly, strining it out in a howl like a shimmering gold wire.
Between him and Steve, the electricity crackled. Ghost clenched his hands in front of him, raised his face to the gilded ceiling. Steve shook his head madly. His hair stood out like a scribbled black cloud. Sparkling drops of sweat landed sizzling on his guitar, on the audience, on Ghost's upturned face. Ghost licked the sweat off his lips and tried to breathe. There was no breath left in him. The audience had taken it all. In him there was only song, endlessly swelling. If he did not let it out his heart would burst."