Here’s a short piece inspired by The Collector (1965 film adaptation of John Fowles’s novel), capturing its eerie tone and psychological tension. The Specimen Drawer
“You said you wanted freedom,” he whispered, adjusting the focus of the Rolleiflex he’d set up on a tripod. “But freedom’s messy. Out there, you’d just fly into a window, get eaten by a bird. Down here… down here, I can keep you perfect.” 1965 the collector
She finally spoke. Low. Hoarse.
He set the tray on the crate beside the cot, then stepped back to admire her against the grey limestone. In the single bulb’s jaundiced light, she was still beautiful. Still his rarest specimen . He had pinned her without touching a wing. Here’s a short piece inspired by The Collector
Miranda lay on the cellar cot, her summer dress dusted with chalk from the old stone walls. She did not scream anymore. Her eyes followed him, though, as he descended the wooden stairs, carrying a tray of tea and biscuits. Out there, you’d just fly into a window,
“I thought you’d like the Darjeeling,” he said. His voice was a pale, apologetic thing. “Not the everyday kind.”