Teatime in the Graveyard

By Kate Catalina

A nameless girl, who dwells in the small New England town of Paper Falls, recalls a mysterious autumn experience. One October night, a storm lashes through the quaint little village, leaving behind a cold and eerie mess of trees and fog. The girl, a lonely connoisseur of imagination, takes a stroll to the graveyard the morning after, carefully passing the disheveled white house that stands near the graveyards front gates. An old woman who lives inside has remained a mystery to the girl for years, as well as to the town, but after a series of enchanting events, the girl comes face-to-face with the woman who encourages her not to waste her gifts of perception, expression, and words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546253938

Kate Catalina

Kate Catalina was raised in western Massachusetts where the inspiration of the four seasons played a significant role in her development as a writer. As a documented descendant of Mayflower passenger Edward Doty, Catalina found interest in British literature, customs, and history at a young age upon discovery of her ancestry. Aside from finding interest in the works of New England writers and poets like Cummings, Poe, Hawthorne, and Plath, Catalinas talents extend into a realm of music and performance art that ultimately took her down a rock and roll path of Vegas nightlife, and a lengthy, soon-to-be-written recap of life backstage and on the road with some of rocks biggest names. Much of Catalinas writing carries comparable themes to those of her influencers, bringing a compact dose of gothic/romantic mood, unique sentence structure, and crisp organization of words to her work. Amongst her many writing credits includes a background in music journalism, and songwriting; and, in 2013, Catalina completed her education in creative writing at Exeter College at University of Oxford (UK) through OUDCE. She continues to inspire young writers and artists with the mantras like Good writing is honest writing," "Truth is important." Visit KateCatalina.com to learn more.

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© 2018 Kate Catalina. All rights reserved.

Cover art by Caitlin She

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

The following does not involve proper grammar. I’ve never been interested in the rules because the rules don’t tell the truth. Speak freely. Be shameless. Great writing is honest writing. Look at your grocery list. I bet it reads like a poem.

If you were ever a dickhead to me, I probably wrote about you, and you might have made it into these pages. Think you’re pretty cool, huh? Don’t be so sure of yourself. I’ll always be one step ahead of you. Similarly, if I ever loved you, there’s no question you made it into these pages. Enjoy.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/08/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5394-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5393-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018909120

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Whimsy, small feats

A bit of loneliness

Observation

Small, wild girl

With the forever-heart of a child

Teatime in the Graveyard

In wuthering reverie

Love In The Meadow Lost

The People, Not The Place

About the Author

For Chip

My soulmate.

My l

over.

My best friend.

The rest no one else needs to know

but us.

Your journey with me begins here…

Prose: words in their best order; poetry: the best words in the best order.

— Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Whimsy, small feats

This is a short story, a simple story.

Always has my life been filled with whimsy, small feats, a bit of loneliness. Restless observation. I know that as a small glowing light in the sky I couldn’t possibly have asked for it, but perhaps heaven alone having willed it, God let me live as a small, wild girl with the forever-heart of a child. It has been my blessing; it has been my curse, and the thing of souls that makes souls brave.

Let me show you.

Once, during the last sad winter of my youth, I visited London where, in the middle of the cold old city, I met an accountant from Berlin. His name was Sebastian, and I had loved him by the end of just an afternoon. Basti (as his friends called him) liked Vivaldi, mathematics, and the way tropical fish moved through water like neon-feathered birds bathing under rain. He liked the taste of sugar on toast, coffee instead of tea, and missed his dead father who once told him to go to London if you’re looking for Love.

We talked late into a November morning about magic and cigarettes, about death and cheap wine; and in the way of fairy tales with secrets for endings he changed my life in a sort of way I’m not allowed to tell.

I’ll immortalize his glory in a story, or so I remember thinking.

And once in New York, just after Christmas, I went walking along Broadway when it began to rain. There was something so sorrowful about that rain. Such a dismal downpour it was, and after such a season of happy pies and presents, and the beaming babe in the manger. All spirited snowfall had run its course, and what could be found then were empty storefronts boasting sales for shoes and jackets and dresses and things, and all on display through a prickly curtain of rain.

I told myself I’d write about it one day.

Then there was Darling Joe who, always in his filthy orange cap, walked along the main street of town chain smoking, trying to snag a quarter off every passerby. I guess he craved the warm kindness of a fresh biscuit from the local bakery in the morning, and just needed enough to get a