As I sat down to write my tea day entries I looked over a very long expanse of time. I was taken back by how many things had happened on this day, how many people of note through the ages had been born, and just how staggering this day was and might always be. So I instead turned away from the history pages and took a walk. I took what I call the long walk that would take me into the local town. When I reached town I found my feet unconsciously leading me towards my most favorite of spots in this place: Etta Diem’s Attic Shoppe.
As I moved through the shoppe’s front doors I was greeted with the oddities, strange things, and all around dark beauty of this place. Sometimes it can be hard to find another whimsical soul with the same amount of dark spice thrown into the mix. Since first meeting her, I knew Etta was my kin. She would never allow herself to be pinned down between the darkness and the light. She would never let anyone say there weren’t a pantheon of characters who moved through both places. I can honestly say she was the one person who helped me embrace all things about me. This is perhaps why I sought her out on this day.
“Miss Pagona! My little Poppy Seed!” the infamous Etta greeted me with as she moved from behind her attic shoppe’s front counter. She was as she always could be found: Dressed in dark Victorian attire with plenty of brooding and bruised color blooms to decorate her hair and attire. She smelled like white water flowers and orange ginger. When she wrapped her arms around me for her friendly hug it felt like a mother’s hug and for a moment I could forget that my own mother had been gone for so long. It allowed me to take a moment and exhale.
“What is weighing you down my dear? Your face has a shadow across it that has nothing to do with the sun and obstructions. Come now! Tell auntie Etta.”
I took a breath and soon found words falling from my lips. “Aunt Etta, it’s such a strange thing. I wrote my tea notes about things that have happened in time, and then focused on someone and something far more bright. I couldn’t find that today. As I looked over the histories of this day I saw so many things that were dark. The few highlights I encountered were simply the end of something that had been so dark. I needed something bright to write about and I could find none. It darkened my thoughts so deeply that I couldn’t turn a clear eye to the immediate world around me and find something better.”
The look on Etta’s face was what I needed. It was the perfectly understanding with just a slight hint of a smirk: She knew something. “Come with me.” she whispered.