Sunday, November 27, 2005

Flinging the money upon the table she cried out in anguish. “Pay for my time, my work, my energy…anything but my love!”
Gaston stood there, mutely staring at her.
“I am not willing to endure this. This cannot be! Honest work is what I ask, not this! Not this marriage for a life I could never justify.” He drew breath as if to speak but then lapsed into silence once more.
Suddenly humble and weak her voice trembled, “Will you not give me what is good, what is honest? Will you not help me in my time of need,” her voice became a whisper, “as I helped you in yours?”
He sighed again but this time he spoke, “And what of the child?”
“He is alive.” she bowed her head with weariness, “He only needs a warm place to stay and food to fill his mouth. Then his strength will return…If you do not help me he will surely die. I beg you to save his life in an honorable manner. This one mercy is all I ask.” She raised her eyes to rest upon his face, searching for some suggestion of humanity. But no, his eyes remained cold and emotionless. She was afraid of these dark, empty eyes, where even evil would not lie, only a wall of stone. Her hope shrank as she looked upon them. What good could come out of these? Tears began to fill her eyes. “I beg you Sir. You are my only hope.”
He turned abruptly away from her and sighed once more. Silence…and then bowing his head he said, “It shall be as you ask.”

shimmering walls

She laughingly grabbed his hand and dragged him stumbling, off the road into the grass and daisies and brilliant sunlight.
“You will never guess what I have found!” she said breathlessly over her shoulder as she pulled him along. He smiled silently. There was amusement in his voice.
“What is it?”
“You will see.” She replied delightedly, throwing him a charming glance. He joined in her happiness and dutifully followed her guide through this dear meadow of their childhood. They reached the bedraggled beginnings of the forest and still she ran. He felt the strong grip of her small hand in his. Her hair shone red and brown and golden as the flecks of sunlight caught it through the dense trees. Suddenly he found himself blindly staggering down stone steps. The light grew dimmer. The roof was low and uneven. He saw wedges in the stone walls with candles lit to light the way. The stair was steep and winding. And then they were at the bottom. Antoine looked up and found himself in a large chamber of white stone. The ceiling was surprisingly high, like a great hall. The walls were rough but the floor was smooth as marble. The white stone reflected the candle light, giving a glowing impression to everything.
She turned to him, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks flushed.
“What is this place?” he whispered excitedly.
She smiled mysteriously, “I do not know! I found it one day while looking for violets for mother’s grave. There is the one entrance we have come through and another at the far end of the forest.”
“The far end of the forest?” He breathed in awe. “Why then it must be enormous!”
“Yes it is. There are dozens of rooms, each reached by tunnels. Most are not as grand as this one though.” She watched him staring up at the ceiling. “Not a day has gone by since you were gone that I have not dreamed of showing you this place. I run here to escape from Nurse and the clamor of the house. It is so pleasant and quiet and beautiful here. I sit and think of you…Now I shall love it all the more since you have been in it.” He looked down at her, his face softened.
She threw her arms around him, “Oh my dearest brother, how I have missed you.” she whispered.
Returning her firm embrace he whispered, “I have missed you too.”
There they stood, two figures, encircled by the magical light of the shimmering walls.

Latin Lessons

“Where have you been?” Madame Conti’s sharp, angry voice rang through the halls, “I’ve been searching for you this entire hour at least! Careless, unfeeling child! Did you think you could escape your Latin lesson when you know very well it is the dearest wish of your father that you become an educated proper young lady? What do you mean by scampering about the forest and heaven knows where else in this wild manner?
“I was only-”
“None of that, I will not tolerate this! You tear your petticoats and dirty your shoes! You leave the house without giving me the slightest notion of where you’re going or what you’re up to!” She seized Marie’s hand resolutely, “Come with me Marie Emil Lynnette, you shall see what your father has to say about this.” So saying Madame Conti pulled Marie roughly to the great oak door of her father’s study.
“Come in.” Marie heard her father’s deep voice through the door. “Ah, Madame Conti, Marie. Is something the matter?” His face was pale and weary.
“Yes Monsieur, something is the matter. I’ve just come-”
Swiftly Marie wrenched away from Madame Conti’s grip and ran to her father’s side, putting her arms about his neck.
Irritated, Madame Conti continued, “I have come to inform you of your daughter’s indifferent behavior towards her education Monsieur. It seems that ever since your son has gone away she will not concentrate on her lessons. Her mind is ever elsewhere. Instead she runs away from the house and tears and soils her clothes. She does not inform me when she goes and refuses to listen to a word I tell her.”
“Is this true?” he asked softly, looking into his daughter’s eyes as only a father can.
“Yes Papa, it is true.” Her small voice quivered, “But Papa, I was only gone to the sea because I missed Antoine. I did not mean to frighten Nurse.” Her voice became smaller still, “I only missed Antoine.”


Her dark curls were carried up into the wind as she stood at the edge of the cliff, perceiving the deep blue of the water beneath her. Her hands held a white rose vigilantly tight, that it would not be blown away in the torrents of wind that came rushing to meet her from the sea. Her brother had given it to her, plucked from the washerwoman’s garden. She smiled as she remembered how he had arrived at this place to meet her, bearing this treasure proudly in his hand. Indeed he had overcome the great dangers of Madame de Vendome’s sleepless eye. What horrors that old crone would have done to him had he been caught! A fleeting shadow passed over her small face. But oh how brave her great Antoine had been! And then how gallantly he had knelt down on the grass and presented this rose in all its beauty and splendor to her delighted face.
“Will this help you to bear my leaving? For you do know I must go no later than tonight, else father will be very angry. You must learn to be brave my little dear.” He stood up as she took the rose. “How else shall I bear leaving myself, knowing you will cry at my going?” he had whispered through the wind. She had let a few tears escape her dark eyes as he embraced her firmly in his arms.
“And now he is gone.” Marie said in a small voice, made smaller by the sighs of the wind. A tear began to form but she quickly wiped it away before it could be remembered. She would be brave for him, and she would always keep this white rose.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

do you really read this?:/

Saturday, November 12, 2005

beautiful Posted by Picasa

He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end. I know that nothing is better for them than to rejoice, and to do good in their lives, and also that every man should eat and drink and enjoy the good of all his labor-it is the gift of God.
Ecclesiastes 3:11-12

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

city lights Posted by Picasa
memories Posted by Picasa
fairy Posted by Picasa
singing Posted by Picasa
deep in thought Posted by Picasa
up-turned nose Posted by Picasa
Julia Roberts Posted by Picasa
high-tops Posted by Picasa
i miss you Posted by Picasa
flowers Posted by Picasa
subtle Posted by Picasa
sensible Posted by Picasa
hide-and-seek Posted by Picasa
one years old Posted by Picasa
a first kiss Posted by Picasa
be with me please, i beseech you Posted by Picasa
paper heart Posted by Picasa
grief Posted by Picasa
magazine girl Posted by Picasa
eyes cold and sad Posted by Picasa
close Posted by Picasa
The Scientist Posted by Picasa
Marielle Posted by Picasa
french Posted by Picasa