Last night, we travelled by cinema to Narnia, a fabulous place full of fauns and centaurs, ruled (at the start of the film) by a deliciously wicked witch. For once, the villainess was allowed to dispense with black, opting for a stylish and seasonable white wardrobe. Few fashionistas could match her for accessories: she even colour coordinates outfits with transport: a reindeer-drawn sled for casual every-day use, and a high-powered chariot pulled by polar bears for weekends and special occasions (brooms are so very last season - acceptable for the school age witch and wizard, but certainly not the thing for the upwardly mobile career witch with an eye to world domination).
Post Narnia, Miss C and I raced each other home from The City, two silver hulls gleaming dimly by the light of a full moon: around us, its reflected glory painted empty road and sleeping fields in shades of pale fantasy. Selene is sailing closer and rising higher than she has in twenty years.