Time for some metrics

"There was fear here, rooted deep in the thin soil, thrumming through the limbs of the trees, climbing the house and stable brick by crumbling brick. It twined around Madame’s night-time dreams, so that she shook and cried out in her sleep. Its coils swathed Mado the maid, honing the edge on her voice and the resentment in her heart. It ran through Remi de Faumont’s veins, dripped from his tongue. Inside, it coated every wall, lurked in corners and under furnishings, hung from the ceilings in dusty festoons to mock the inhabitants. It was immanent in every breath, bitter as vinegar. In human terms it was old, this fear, born in some long ago rage and nurtured, night by day, in isolation and confusion and anxiety."

GK 2 proceeds apace: 1045 new words today. There are riots in the city and private madness in the big house.

Skirt of the day: long silky burgundy.