ghoulnextdoor Report post Posted Saturday at 08:47 PM The Season of Ghosts opens with the candies that lived in grandmother's crystal dishes - the confectionary citrus sweetness of pillowy circus peanuts and tangy jellied oranges glowing like stained glass. But it's the turn it takes, the transformation that haunts: a slow bloom of golden musty glamour that hints at powder puffs and hat veils, of the musky, mossy, bronze grandeur of those perfumes that filled rooms with their presence and lingered for days in fur coats. It's finding faded sepia-tinted photos in an ornate old candy tin of your grandmother from that unmistakable era, each image radiating the warmth of a moment when time moved slower and youth seems older than our own age now, more weighted with substance and shadow. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
