MADRID, Apr 3, 2010 / — Dreams of beauty; his body was nude. His whitish skin stood out along with his red hair, like the mane of a wild horse. He left his bed of pink bedspreads and covered himself with the uniform of the cafeteria he had been working in for years, where they made the best blueberry pie in the state.
Magical colours that made his femininity stand out in an atypical, unusual way, in a way that had not been seen up until now. She was like paradise but in the depths of her being she hid darkness and tenebrism, which is why owls, majestic eagles and enormous white horses guarded her house from the evil spirits in the wood. The ones that was older than the earth we trod on.
Her innocent fingers wrote in the diary which was covered with red velvet and whose centre had a half heart embroidered in it in gold. The pencil wrote a sentence over and over again, a sentence she had repeated in her head a thousand times. Fire Walk With Me, Fire Walk With Me, Fire Walk With Me.
Photos courtesy of Cibeles Madrid Fashion Week