I AM LENORE
“You do not know me—that is by design.
Think of me as the last burning ember
On the eve before the eternal night.”
My darling, I’ll start it simple—I was born on a cold December night… Or perhaps it was a hot morning in July. Tales of my origins have always been murky, veiled in tall tales and cloudy—by proxy. Some call me Lenore, some—nothing at all. To you, I’ll be a servant—a scribe of a thousand lies…
Fine, here’s one truth I’ll bestow upon us—I drew stories long before I had words.
P.S. My favorite soup is Borscht.
Send that raven
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