<p>It was a delirious thought,  <a href="http://dogetransparency.wiki/index.php/Bamboo_Pillowcases_Pillow_Protectors">Derila Sleep Support</a> a delicious idea, an idea none of us could have refused if we had wanted to - one project, one story, five perfumers and six writers, all of them and all of it wrapped up in a city whose very name echoed its own kind of silken promise - Venezia. Venice, where Romuald had lived out - or dreamed - his decadent self, all those sensual pleasures he had never known until Clarimonde. We were all of us assembled in our rented palazzo in the Cannareggio, there to create another kind of magic and breathe our mutual inspirations into other stories we would tell in essences and absolutes, in words, songs and poetry, in utterly magnificent meals and laughter both sumptuous and intoxicating. So we gathered, our little coven of eleven women, convinced of all our creative possibilities to come in that heady, happy rush of synergy and estrogen, in that vortex of time and timeless that was…</p><a href="https://gosun.co/"><img src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/bc/Rila_Monastery_AUG_2004.jpg"></a><br/><br/><span style="display:block;text-align:center;clear:both"><iframe width="640" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GsGwew65KI8?showinfo=0&rel=0&fs=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen title="Dr Trust USA Cervical pillow for neck pain, Contoured Support, Spine \u0026 Shoulder (Memory foam) 355 (c) by N/A"></iframe></span><p>Venice. The colors, the smells of the canals, the lilting Venetian dialect that echoed off the narrow alleyways, the peculiar glint of sunlight on the canal that reflected off the ceiling and would wake us in the morning and evoke that peculiar phrase… ‘fare la vecchia’, to squint against that flash of light like an old woman squints… But all was not well on the Fondamenta della Misericordia in the Cannareggio… Two ferocious guard dogs - the hounds of Hecate? Still, it was Venice. We were there for a purpose, and so we all set to work in our different ways, gathering inspiration in the company and in our views of Murano in the distance across the lagoon, gathering synergy from each other and our walks and the glories around us at every turn, a fellowship united by one purpose - to create something extraordinary, something never before seen, never before written, sung nor smelled… Until the token blonde - that would be me - was stalked by an apparition of my own, yet this ghost was no vampire, and I knew him very well.</p><br/><br/><p>He would always come when I least expected it, always when I happened to be alone, lurking behind a column on the Piazza San Marco, reaching out to grab me from a murky alleyway in the Giudecca, startling me on the darkened stairwell of the palazzo at 2 AM as I went to fetch my notebook and write by the fire, distracting me as he only knew with all he had. I protested, I tried to pull away… "Yet you know that isn’t all you want, that is your ambition and those friends are your duty but this is another kind of want… Somewhere in that violent conflict of promise and pleasure, somewhere on the shadowy, echoing stairs of a Venetian palazzo on the Fondamenta della Misericordia, I woke up… Venice, not with the women I had come to know through one haunting story and five haunting

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