Violeta Noir

  • I’d Rather Read Smut

    I haven’t written in the Margins since September 9. This is not because nothing happened. Quite the opposite. Too many things happened, mostly involving men who appear to believe my life has an open door policy. It does not. There was Chiron. For a moment, I actually liked him. Enough that I noticed myself looking…

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  • The Ritual and the Aftermath

    Friday was quiet. No men. No mythology. No strange little plot twists waiting behind a cocktail glass. I went home, cooked, and rested. Which, apparently, was the universe conserving energy. Because Saturday got loud. I found a beautiful little coffee shop downtown, ordered something delicious, opened my homework, and settled in wearing an off-white lace…

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