Glyphica

Damien had often tried to catch a glimpse of her after that, but nevertheless she eluded him. To say that she hadn't left his mind since that evening would be more of an understatement than anything else. Ever since that evening on the sidewalks of Paris when he'd first seen her, she had been drifting in and out of his thoughts. On more than one occasion he found himself thanking God that he had seen her, that her face was burned into his memory. It was almost sad to think that one chance encounter had made her such a special creature for him, that she suddenly meant so much to him when he didn't even know her name. It was more pathetic to t

"I'm sorry that I have to tell you this... but she's - ...no. No, that won't work..." Frustrated, he whirled on his heel and took a few steps in the other direction only to turn abruptly and step the other way once more. If he didn't knock soon then he knew that the door would just open and the man behind it would demand the reason as to why he was on the step pacing back and forth. That was a situation that he would rather avoid. Clearing his throat, he finally stopped his pacing and knocked on the door swiftly and abruptly. There was a brief pause that felt like he'd been standing there for hours before he heard a hand on the doorknob. Hi

The night had been hard. She hadn't thought of what she would have to do after leaving the shop guaranteed a job, but with no money. She couldn't rent a room at the inn, she couldn't buy herself anything to eat. She'd resorted to attempting to nonchalantly take the apple in the way she had planned, and she had - thankfully - succeeded without being caught. But one singular apple was not proper sustenance for an entire day. Had she been at home she could have had as much fruit as she wanted. But she wasn't at home, and she wasn't going to be at home. She needed to learn to make this her reality. That, however, had proved even more difficult w

Disappearing. That was the most appealing and ideal step to take. In that moment when she had left her ring in her old vanity drawer, it was as if she had closed the door on that life. Nothing could bring back her life with Raoul. Of course it pained her to do it. There was part of her that wanted to go running back to the Opera to retrieve the ring, but she wouldn't let herself. If she wanted to be able to focus on taking care of herself, severing all emotional ties was absolutely necessary. There wasn't time to let herself grieve. More than this, it wasn't that she didn't feel the hurt, the grief over the loss of her husband, but it hadn'

"Forgiveness is a virtue of the brave." -Indira Gandhi It was amazing how quickly things could go from being perfectly normal and routine to completely out of control. Life would never cease to amaze her in that way. Earlier that day, they had been sitting down at the table and discussing a trip to Perros-Guirec, eating from a tray of fruit and watching the way the summer breeze danced with the long ivory curtains. And now, now she found herself waking with her face in the wet ground, rain pelting her body, her hair tangled with mud, her night shift soaked through and scrapes all over her palms. How had it happened? If her mind wasn't about