“In all institutions that are not open to the biting air of public criticism an innocent corruption flourishes like a fungus (as, for example, in learned bodies and senates).”
There is something about classic literature that hits different - which is not to say that modern literature lacks depth - there is just something so incredible about reading something and knowing that these same words were consumed by people decades, centuries before you took your first breath. And they loved and felt the stories the way you do& despite all the time separating you you’re still connected…
Dostoevsky looked at you like he did any other man. An absence.
For years of working under Dostoevsky, he's made it very clear to you that your feelings will not only be non-reciprocated, but also ignored.
“Have you ever had feelings for me that went beyond simple infatuation?” A small chuckle escaped Dostoevsky, “What led you to believe that I was even remotely infatuated with you in the first place?”
Dostoevsky was a cruel man, and you knew that.
Although he was heinous in his words— “Where do you think you're going?” Dostoevsky asked from behind you, standing a few steps from his desk. You paused, slowly turning around before giving him a small head bow, “Sigma requested that we meet at the casino. Will you allow me to go, Dostoevsky?”
Keeping your head low, you heard the heels of Dostoevsky's shoes clack onto the floor as he made his way closer to you. Dostoevsky placed a gloved hand under your chin and made you look up at him, a gentle smile on his face, yet it still managed to send shivers down your spine at the sight of it.
“I'm afraid I can't let you go, F/n. I still have a job that you have yet to fulfill.”—Dostoevsky still held a possessive nature around you.
Dostoevsky had a habit of berating you for doing something with people other than him. He wanted you to stay close to him, and only him, because he loved you.
... He loved you?
No— He didn't feel love; he felt obsession.
Dostoevsky was obsessed with you.
He will do anything—and I mean anything—to keep you near him. Although he might not make it up to you in words, you were able to discern his true intentions from his behavior.
You smiled up at Dostoevsky, “I understand, Sir.” He could only grin at your obedience. “Excellent.”
Dostoevsky was equally fixated on you as you were with him.
My new book, "The flock of wind", out now on Amazon and Flipkart.
One of "those" books, indescribably close to my heart, Please do purchase, read and promote!
Link on Amazon: https://amzn.eu/d/5V7jwBG
Link on Flipkart: https://www.flipkart.com/the-flock-of-wind/p/itm1c0080e243828?pid=9781636409993&lid=LSTBOK97816364099935MWA1T&marketplace=FLIPKART&q=the+flock+of+wind&store=bks&pageUID=1695554400262
"Time doesn't require time to change our lives within the blink of an eye. I was worrying about a multitude of things last year. Today, I stand unparallel to where I stood yesterday,"
Watching wild trees chasing each other from the train window,
I huffed a breath.
It's been almost a year since I had travelled with the passenger express,
Life crumbled into pieces and stood back again on bruised knees.
I also realised that I was beginning to reach adulthood now.
I waved at a little girl in the compartment, something which only elder women did with me, when I was a little girl.
I stare at dry yards and empty tunnels for a very long time, until I begin to see myself in the yards.
I and Madhav, chasing each other, as summer transitions the coolest regions of Maharashtra into greenhouses.
We looked inside some of the posts by
opheliaschamber
and here's what we found interesting.
Average Info
Notes Per Post
21K
Likes Per Post
15K
Reblog Per Post
6K
Reply Per Post
32
Time Between Posts
22 days
Number of Posts By Type
Text
17
Explore Tagged Posts
Fun Fact
BuzzFeed published a report claiming that Tumblr was utilized as a distribution channel for Russian agents to influence American voting habits during the 2016 presidential election in Feb 2018.