ANNA KARENINA: FROM LONDON WITH LOVE

Where Anna sat, an air of proud dignity trickled through the walkways of the carriage.

Like a cherished family pet, her mink fur muff rested on her lap, her delicate gloved hands, of rich black leather, held from view inside it.


Her face rests with characteristic charm, a display of quiet defiance at the glances her finery attracts. As though nestled in lush shrubbery, a glittering peacock is attached to her mink fur stole, it’s feathered head leaning slightly towards hers, with affection for its mistress. Plumes of black feathers reach out from her fashionable hat, set forward onto her forehead, the feathers dancing with the mechanical rocking of the train.

A bird of paradise trapped in a cage.

The train announcement, that neutral, disembodied voice that accompanied each journey through the Underground.

Anna gently lifts herself from her seat, her trimmings flirting with the breeze she leaves behind as she exits the carriage, ascending into the light of Kensington on a cool December day.



Anna glides through the bustling streets, the anticipation of breaking the cold with her English lover’s embrace pushing a little flight into her step.

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Passing through the Gothic arches of a church, the echoes of a millennium of footsteps call to her.

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