Sara is lovely in her pajamas, look cozy! It really lightens my day to see this. Though Sara, your sadness breaks my heart...wish there's someone else for you out there...
"That's alright," I whispered, turning away again. "I was shy about my voice at first too." Of course, my voice had some mysterious ability to influence people--even my speaking voice had some power. I should move far away, me being who I am, but I could never imagine myself away from this life. I am a wanderer, but I never stray very far from this place anymore.
I hear a soft rustle from behind and turn, a flutter of panic rising unbidden in my chest. I must be becoming more paranoid as the years go by. It was a raven-like bird with keen eyes and gleaming black feathers. I approached with a soft smile, brushing away the tear from my cheek. "Well met, my avian friend. "What song do you bring me tonight?" The bird rustled its feathers and gazed up at me with its brilliant gem-like eyes.
Unpacking my belongings into yet another new apartment. Perhaps next time I ought to move to Marseille; undoubtedly I'll end up running across people I recognize. But still, Paris is where I belong. I can't imagine living anywhere else. I hum an old French song as I work, but as I open the first box the old photograph of me and Jean-Pierre appears on top and stops me in my tracks. I pick it up and fold it into my pocket, feeling a tear trace down my cheek.
