Evelyn - a fairy-tale of a misanthrope with rich imagination who fell in love

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While intended as a satirical allegory, the story has drops of philosophy, comedy, romance and even fantasy, but I can't really say much without *Spoilers*, so just give it a shot - it's quite short, A cute, scattered, colorful, darkish, funny, magical, interesting, beautiful, philosophical, satiric - these are the words that apply to Evelyn and the book both... This story is about a young hermit named Emily Tompson, who persists on spelling it Tombstone. She lives entirely in her own fantasy world and doesnt' care about making friends, fashion, career, or getting married (which is extremely weird as she lives in Victorian England). But one day she inherits a real castle and an unbelievably large sum of money, and guess what - she falls in love the very same day. But is she able to move out of her fantasy world and be happy here and now? She will soon find out that she has inherited something else - a magical secret about her Country... The original version is full of whimsical illustrations and fonts...

Romance / Humor
Sophia Newtown
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

Somewhere in England, beside Cheshire, in a place not marked on any map (soon enough you’ll discover — why) stuck in the XIX Century, lived a girl named by her parents Evelyn Thompson, but who stubbornly spelled her second name Tombstone in hopes to look darker... Well, yes, she was a little weird... You know — outsider, living in her own fantasies and stuff... She didn’t care about fashion, money, politics, and even her own reputation! She believed it all to be silly, unnecessary, and too complicated, which in addition, it kept changing so fast, it easily slipped her attention. Yet everybody around her seemed to have nothing else to talk about, think about, and maybe even live for! Now that I think about it, you might as well discover all these fun facts about the main character from the following pages, so in a way this was a useless piece of information, but… you see… I’d rather tell it right away, and I should probably call it a prologue. Yes, consider everything written above and below (up to chapter two) a prologue. Ok? Well, she was thinking about completely different stuff: she kept staring at the night sky, realizing how insignificantly short human life was, watched the seasons change, and wondered what was here a few Centuries ago? What will be here in a million years? Was this Antmountain, which laid between the two cities, created before the cities or after? She wished she could witness that process... She wished she could live some-when else — when people would think about something more interesting than money-money-marry-marry-work-work-work... Besides, she was extremely curious: she was eager to find out which myths and stories were true, and which were simply made up, and if so — by whom and for what purpose? Generally, that’s how she had spent most of her childhood — wondering about the Future and the Past, basically never bothering to stop and pay some attention to the Present... So, to tell the truth, she seemed to be kind of slow and autistic to those around her... But again — that never bothered her...

She did manage to live an average and society-plausible life, though: by avoiding bad habits, not using any curse-words, by moving out of the family nest by the age of 19, renting a small flat in another town, and finding an enjoyable job at the local pastry shop. Her job was to decorate the cakes, and she just loved it — this was the only place where her imagination actually paid off!

The only problem was the co-workers. They weren’t bad — they just were. It bothered her a lot. You see, she grew to be pretty much a misanthrope by the age of X-teen... Or, at least, so she believed, though it rarely convinced other people who didn’t brood as much about the deep philosophical reasons of one’s antisocial behavior… What’s more unfortunate is that nobody cared about that small inconvenience when she bloomed into a beautiful lady with a mysterious smile (she hoped it looked frightening, and incinerating, but no — it looked mysterious and even... oh God... Cute!). So, it was no surprise when she started seeing long queues of young gentlemen waiting in front of the shop just to see her, even if they ended up with a polite rejection accompanied by that charming smile of hers... Oh, how she hated them! She hated them so much, their number grew in her head exponentially, so while in fact there were no more than three lone gentlemen a month — it seemed to her like dozens of annoying desperate stalkers building up in front of the poor little shop like zombies!

Every morning, walking across the huge square that spread between her home and her workplace, she thought about those romantics standing in front of the shop and sighed. The world was so boring: no heroes, no destiny — just a small nod, and here you go on a boring and predictable ride: engagement, marriage, kids, grandkids…

I, personally, don’t quite agree with her — I believe, true love may be met in quite an ordinary situation... Like bumping into each other in a park, or in a library... She would probably curse herself if that was the way she’d meet her true love...

So, that’s how she spent about a year and a half — using her imagination and creativity to decorate cakes and muffins, but though they were a real success, she never tried to become anything more — for example, an Artist. And that’s because she was never ready to “try” — she would only paint the most perfect, gorgeous and expressive painting that has ever been painted by a human being, not less! She had the same fantasy about her own poem, based on her note-writing experience, and a music composition, judging by her high humming skills, and so on... She never realized her fantasies, so we’ll never know if she was actually capable of creating any of these masterpieces...

She was quite educated — she used to spend most of her free time in the library, but she didn’t show off her erudition much, she mostly kept her opinion to herself, and didn’t talk much. Rarely, she would say something, especially when hearing how unbearably wrong a person near her was — but usually she was laughed at (she was a cute young girl, remember?), and that made her shut up for a month more, and hate humans yet more because they were full of stupid stereotypes! Oh, wait, that’s her version. I must say, she actually never managed to shut up for longer than two days — keep it a secret, but she was a real chatterbox — a really cynical, shameless and know-it-all chatterbox... The only thing that helped her keep her mouth shut was the solitude she enjoyed during most of the day... Yeah, she should be grateful she lived in XIX Century England — it wasn’t so overpopulated back then...

Mostly, Evelyn seemed to rather enjoy her style of living. From the height of the clouds she was stuck in, the real world seemed tiny and completely insignificant — and it just felt good! But, sometimes she brooded that she was equally tiny and insignificant for the world around her — that made her so sad, she wished to stand in the middle of the square and scream “Won’t you even notice my disappearance?!” But, again, she never realized her fantasies, and self-soothed remembering that she didn’t care about all those people around her since they were mere humans... Ew... she hated those... yes she did! She didn’t care about anybody! She wasn’t missing social contact! She wasn’t lonely at all! Ever! Or… that’s what she kept telling herself...

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