-1-
I don’t recall seeing much of Georgia. My thoughts were to occupied with finding Robert Essex whom had been exiled to teach in at a prominent but small university In Northern India. Despite that it was nearly 8,000 miles away I I didn’t hesitate to find a plane ticket.
I had been so restless for answers and I want to believe that whatever Essex's knows could help free me of Lucie's presence.
The men in the airport lounge reminded me of Martin, men whom saw themselves important, the world they believed they owned. They puffed their cigarettes and straightened their ties. They felt important and wanted the world to know it.
I didn’t allow myself to think of my mysterious illness or the images of the dead girl much after that day. Only on occasion would these things haunt me.
My flight left at noon one day in late August.Till then I had never been on a plane. Seeing the world from so high up was surreal and sublime. It showed how even the biggest man in the tallest building could be so irrelevant in the scheme of things.
The flight lasted for fifteen hours and It was either almost dawn or twilight when the plane descended into Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport.
The air was ruggedly humid, and although I had speculated it was the heat the caused my unwanted “vision”days earlier in Georgia, I was glad for the heat. The warm weather was as far away from the icy upstate winter as I could get.
I didn’t want to waste any time and after a few hours of sleep in an unkepet hotel I set out with a map in hand to the University of Mumbai where Mr. Essex was tenured.
Classes had just begun for what was the fall semester so I had high hopes of finding him. I thought of what I would ask him ? I would first of course ask him where he received the theories for his book for all I knew he could be like me .... us.
The sky was a clear blue that day, leaving the sun to shine relentlessly against the tropical environment. Once again the city was more than passed capacity. Unlike New York in Mumbai not everyone seemed to be in such a rush but it was the least of my concerns.
The university had pleasant architecture, it was an open and picturesque environment.I began to see why Essex’s had taken tenure there.
He was a Western Philosophy Professor, and considering his popularity I thought he would be easy to find.
A woman from the admissions’ office lead me to the old building were his office was located, it was small and tucked away in the far corner of the campus. The only sound inside the building was the faint noise of the air conditioner and the creaking of half opened doors.
Essex’s door was closed shut and located at the end of the hall, the presumably large corner office had a complex and ornate door and I gathered he was highly regarded at the university. A name plate hung slightly tilted against the wall. I knocked a few times and there was no response.
I reached for the door again this time it creaked and opened. I pushed against it again realizing the door was unlocked. No one in the adjoining office seemed to be at the least concerned.
Giving the door a finial push I found what was on the other side of the door
Nothing.
No one.
---
“Yes, but you don’t understand I have questions for him”
“I don’t know what to say”, the woman said
I had spent 10 minutes explaining in vague terms to Essex’s assistant why I needed to speak to him.
“maybe I can help ?”, she offered
“Does he even still work here ?”
“He has tenure . . .but to be honest he’s always been a bit off”
“What do you mean ?”
“He is paranoid and a bit frazzled. Maybe I can help Is this about his current research ?.”
“No. do you know where he lives ?”
“He lives out of hotels mostly, sometimes he takes random trips to Sivanada for weeks, it ruins everyone’s schedules. Though if you ask me I think he got tired of teaching along time ago.”
“He must have a last known address ?”
“I think he was staying at a hotel by the harbor.”
She gave me the address and quickly advised that I should walk, something I rather despised in such a crowded city.
I walked as fast as I could to the hotel near the center of the city. It was a tall glass building a nice place for a man no one seemed to have a good word to say about. The hotel was quiet compared to the noisy streets outside the doors.
“Good Morning, can I help you”, the concierge greeted me
“Yes, I’m looking for Robert Esexx”
The concierge expression dropped still he spoke
“Haven’t seen him in a few days”, the man sounded concerned, “He was very drunk at the time.”
“Well, what about the Sivanada Hotel his assistant told me about ?”
“Oh, Sivanada isn’t a hotel, it’s an Ashram . . .Essex frequents he says it helps quiet the ‘voices’ down.”, he whispered the last part
I wanted to curse but restrained myself, further more what if Essex was mental ill ? I was only partially convinced the voices the concierge mentioned weren't real.
“Could you find out if he is there”
“I don’t think they have phone service.He should be back in a week”
I decided to take up residence at the hotel l until Mr. Essex finally reappeared. The concierge seemed certain that he would return in a few days. He also mumbled something about missing the man’s generous tips.
The hotel had a nice view of the beach and I found that with a view like this I could grow to like this city.
---
In the week that follow Essex never did make an appearance. I spent the time going over his book. It spoke briefly of specters he seemed to find them admirable for wanting to claim some part of their human life back. That we needed the fear of these ‘ghost’ to keep the living in line. . . to make us fear death.
During that time Emile and I mostly communicated through letters. I was carefully to be vague I did not want him to know the exact reason I had traveled so far, he assumes I was still searching for some sort of peace
That was also the day I went in search of Essex myself.
I brought a map and had the concierge help me find the way to this Sivanada place. I wish I could recall his name but I hardly bothered to remember things like that.
The concierge was once again pleasant and perceptive as he helped me find my way to the lakeside town of Kodaikanal where Sivanada was located.
“Are you sure I’ll find Essex there ?”, I asked him
“I can’t imagine where else he would be”, the man said, “When you arrive as for Malika she should be able to help. . . I hope the professor is okay”
Somehow I found his last words to be insincere.
The trip to the southern town would only take two days and I constantly convinced myself it was worth it. Still I didn’t know what I was getting myself into or if Essex was even of the right state of mind.
I thought it might be easier to travel light and as I was throwing away my useless belongings I came across the picture in the frame. I thought to myself maybe I should just get rid of the frame, but it suited the image so well.
I took it out of the frame and sent the frame off somewhere. I folded the picture twice though I felt foolish for keeping it.
The bus I boarded was small, spacious and comfortable. I requested a seat in the back watching the hustle of the large city.
I decided I wouldn’t miss it and I never did.
-2-
Sivanada.
I had heard from locals and tourist alike that those who first lays eyes on it to at first think that they have ended up in the fictional Shangri-la. The ashram stood perfectly nestled between two hills covered with brightly colored wild flowers. Large tropical leaves hung lazily over the entrance. The building itself was small, shining with Islamic architecture
All of this was compromised by the heavy rain shower that had plagued the past few days of my travel
The bus I had traveled in had emptied the closer we came to the path that lead to Sivanada. The rain had turned the dirt streets into mud and I was force to walk the path the lead to the secluded ashram.
The air seemed calmer, and as I approached I realized there were no doors on the facility. The wind and rain blew through every opening and I wondered if it was vacant.
I walked closer, following a path of crudely drawn arrows, a set of curtains over the doors fluttered revealing for a second a woman and a man in deep conversation.
The woman was older, she watched me as I crossed the floor and stopped just as the worn carpet ended. I was glad to be out the rain.
I took the woman to be Malika. the woman the concierge had told me about and the man to be her assistant.
A watch post some yards away had radioed them letting them know of my arrival. He wouldn’t tell me if Essex was there or not and warned me to quickly get out of the rain.
“Welcome”, the assistant began, “I’m afraid we did not get your name from the watchman”
I told him my name and though I wanted to be patient I was hoping this place was not as deserted as it appeared
“I’m looking for someone. Professor Robert Essex. I just need to speak to him then—“
The pair stopped and peered briefly at one another before turning back to me.
“Essex is a visitor and student here. . . of course you’ve just missed him-”
“However”, the woman, Malika, cut in. “He should be returning very soon.”
There was silence and outside the rain continued to pour over the building. I had come all this way to turn around.
“I should make my way down before dark. I’ll be back as soon as Essex arrives.”
“We can at least get you an umbrella and dry clothes”
They both shuffled out of the room leaving me alone. I turned and looked at the walls. There were a set of words written on them, around them people had signed thier names.
unwavering Joy, sumblime insight and peace
Considering the dark nature of Essex's book I could see why such a place with those promises would enchant him.
“What do you think ?”
I turned to see Malika had returned.
“I think I would rather rely on a logical mind that a . . . spiritual one.”, I said honestly
“Why ? Logic and reason are so easily compromised.”
“How so ?”
“Alcohol, for one”, she said, “Anesthesia and certain medicines. What happens to the logical mind then ? A good steadfast soul can never be compromised.”
Soul.
For some reason I was beginning to detest the word.
“To be honest for undisclosed reasons. . . I’m not entirely convinced I have a soul.”
“Everyone has one”, she reasoned, “Who we are is a lot more than just body parts.”
“True”, I said still shivering from the rain
“Although we should take care of both. Do you still believe you don’t have one ?”
“I just can’t be sure”
“Interesting”, she said, “ I want finish this conversation tomorrow. You should stay until it stops raining.”
I agreed at first because I knew I stood a chance of finding Essex but also something told me I might find other answers.
---
It rained the next day. I had slept uncomfortably in a room usually reserved for guest. I gathered the rainy season has kept many visitors away and that was why this place remained vacant
Malika’s assistant Rakeesh introduced himself to me that afternoon. He had just finished secondary school in Britian. He told me she would be with me in a few minutes but apart from that he was rather quiet.
I waited for Malkia to return to the main room for a majority of the morning. I was lost in my own thoughts but for some reason I wanted to talk to her. She finally made an appearance at noon.
Not as tired as I had been the other day I had a closer look at Malika. She was perhaps in her late forties though something about her calm energy made her seemed younger.
The same I felt could be said about the surroundings.
“I see it is still raining”, she said, “it should let up soon.”
“I can only hope”
“How about we get back to this matter of souls.”
“If you insist”, I said, "So tell me what would it be like for a soulless person."
'Well to have lost a soul one would have had to commit a true act against human nature, killing a part of themselves."
"Is that to say a person without a soul couldn't die. .. again ? Even if they tried"
"It's hardly that simple. I teach my students that winning back a soul is not impossible but a time consuming deed. . . Karma if you will.
"You are a teacher ?",
"Yes", she began to look around, "to a few fateful students. though every other time of the year this place becomes a haven for travelers. Not during the rainy season though."
She began to straighten up the nearly empty room ever so often peering at the wet scene outside.
Fortunately by early noon the rain had cleared up and I decided to leave the sanctuary, the woman's words still ringing in my ears.
She promised she would let me know if she heard from Essex and to be sure I decided to spend sometime in town.
With the rain at bay for a few hours I took my time walking down the hilly path that I had come. Without the rain I began to appreciate the natural beauty of the hills. The natural plants and flowers were similar to the ornate decorations in Sivanada and I began to miss my own garden but I hardly stayed in one place anymore it was easier.
The town was mostly empty, the surrounding streets were filled with antique shops, christian churches and resorts. The resorts I gathered it had something to do with the lake so close by.
Once again I found the rain and lack of guest has caused most of the hotels to closed. I began to consider a more private place to stay ? Perhaps a rental home ? nothing entirely permanent but close.
I think the reason I rented a house was not just to be close encase Essex returned, but because somehow I began to enjoy the peacefulness of the quiet town
The house was located in a neighborhood of vacation home near the lake. It was a small modestly furnished housed and surprisingly the plainness inside forced me to spend more time walking outside. The blue star-shaped lake was only inches from the back door.
The roof was low and horizontal, the exterior was white washed with a bright orange roof and wide porch. All the homes on the street looked the same
Each morning I noticed a few lotus floating near the edge at first I thought them to be in their natural environment but later found the landlord placed them there claiming the tourist enjoyed them.
Malkia expressed that she refused to have a phone installed at her ashram and if i wanted to know about Essex's arrival I would have to walk up the hill every afternoon to find out.
With the daily rain showers it was a treacherous task but somehow I enjoyed talking to her, she didn't ask questions about my past (not that I would give them) and she held fast in facts instead of small talk.
After ten days Essex still did not show and I decided to confront Malika about her missing student. Once again it was raining and we strained to listen to each other.
"Aren't you concerned about Essex ?", I asked, "Were you not expecting him back"
She put down the hot tea she had been drinking and gazed into it.
"Truthfully I wasn't", she said, "he left days before you showed up. I saw you were carrying his book and found that fascinating."
"I feel as if you've wasted my time", I said unusually calmly.
"I wish I could tell you where to look next."
"I wish the same."
"you should still come back. . . we can talk"
"If I haven't moved on", I said
That was the last conversation we ever had about Essex and when I walked back down the hill I didn't realize I would be coming back the next day, the day after that and the one after that.
---
The last candle in the room bent and danced at the winds command threatening to go out. I had been in deep conversation with Malika until almost early morning. Her answers seems to spark more questions than I could keep track of.
It was during conversations like these that I realized I never truly had a teacher before. My homeschooling was very basic and since I was eighteen I had been obsessed with teaching myself, never before had I lived off someone else’s knowledge.
“It's almost December", she said looking at a crossed out calendar, "you'll start to find the town less quiet"
"I'll try to keep to myself."
"It gets busy around here as well. . I'm sure I could find you something to do here"
"Work you mean", I said, "money doesn't really interest me."
"I could pay you in lodging and meals. The perfect getaway from whatever you are running from."
"What makes you think I am running from something."
"Well for one you aren't denying it."
truthfully, I didn't feel like telling any more lies so I simply did not answer the question.
"Well", she said, "I don't like to deal with things like money and maybe it would help make your stay here more permanent."
I had never considered such a thought, though I new I was never going back to the states. It was not just the idea of escaping. I was also determined to start over.
-3-
I don’t forget anything.
Ever
I simply didn’t have a choice. There wasn’t a time in my life when I wanted to completely forget what had brought me here.
My new life had been terribly unconventional and dare I even to say without meaning.
The shame I had felt in that New York hotel room so many years ago had simply simmered down to guilt no one but myself knew about.
I knew I couldn’t devoid myself of responsibility when it came to how Roger DeLune had lived out his last days. I only blamed myself for the fall Lucielle had taken. For too long my life revolved around such an ill fated couple.
In the strangely sublime terrain it was surprisingly easy to get away from the few people who inhabited the area. The view really was breathtaking. The sounds were calm except for the distant trickle of a small waterfall.
I did not fell happy ,as I never had any real connection to that feeling anymore but i. . .I decided to let go of all of it.
---
It was one of the warm summery months, I listened from the hallway I listened as Malika began to teach one of her classes. The people she called her students had arrived by foot not a few hours ago. I was surprised to find many of them were American, trying to escape the harsh Eastern winter.
,
They leaned in and listened excitedly she spoke about peace and tranquility. Everyone wanted to feel a connection to something that wasn't their own hectic lives. As the group began to file out for whatever structured activity awaited them next I ran into Malika in the hallway
"You should join my classes sometime", she said
" I'll thoughtfully decline.", she sensed my distance and did not like it.
"Well, it might be good for the man who doesn't have a soul", she said lightly, "Though I understand."
"Understand what ?"
"You are simply not an emotional person far to rational as you've already said."
"I've been in love doesn't that count ? I've been angry I've been vengeful and look where it has lead me"
"Maybe it's time to let that all go."
"Maybe I already have"
I enjoyed working at the ashram it had been a long time since I had done anything with the least bit of meaning. The job was relatively easy because Malika did not allow any modern conveniences like computers, meaning all records had to be done by hand, something she herself was not very good at.
Her 'students' paid a considerable sum for her teachings but none of them ever seemed to regret it
though the facility itself was just one building there wasn't a single room without a window, I later learned it was done on purpose so one couldn't forget where they were. I thought perhaps one day I would get used to the surroundings but I don't think it ever happened.
Though it was nice to have something distracting to spend my days with I still like the solitude of having my own home and every night after dinner I would take the 45 minute walk back to the house in the gated community.
As the months went by I began to notice more cars, lighted houses and the sound of late night parties beginning to fill the neighborhood. Only during the rainy months did it get quiet again.
I considered working on a garden in the rented house but again but I could never quite convince myself.
I'd often fallen asleep on the back porch, the water was so close I was always careful to not fall in. I watched the still water till I began to feel tired but somewhere in the distance I heard splashing. The splashing continued for some time and even though I didn't hear screaming i wondered if some one was drowning.
The sound didn't sound far away and without thinking I swam towards the noise hoping it was an animal or the wind. I cam closer to the spot where the noise was coming from and I felt something pull me beneath the water.
"This is my fault", she said in a whisper to herself.
"What is ? Lucie--"
"I--I shouldn't have come here.. . I have to fix this"
"Lucie, I beg you not be irrational."
"What ? like Roger was when he--"
"Lucie", I said not wanting to hear those words.
"I'll fix this . . . then we will all be happy. Just stay here"
She began to slowly swim away in the darkness and even though I had been distracted I knew from Essex's book that Lucie's inhumanity was her nature. She couldn't help to be cruel. No matter how hard she tried she would never be able to feel anything human again.
Happiness, least of all.
,
They leaned in and listened excitedly she spoke about peace and tranquility. Everyone wanted to feel a connection to something that wasn't their own hectic lives. As the group began to file out for whatever structured activity awaited them next I ran into Malika in the hallway
"You should join my classes sometime", she said
" I'll thoughtfully decline.", she sensed my distance and did not like it.
"Well, it might be good for the man who doesn't have a soul", she said lightly, "Though I understand."
"Understand what ?"
"You are simply not an emotional person far to rational as you've already said."
"I've been in love doesn't that count ? I've been angry I've been vengeful and look where it has lead me"
"Maybe it's time to let that all go."
"Maybe I already have"
I enjoyed working at the ashram it had been a long time since I had done anything with the least bit of meaning. The job was relatively easy because Malika did not allow any modern conveniences like computers, meaning all records had to be done by hand, something she herself was not very good at.
Her 'students' paid a considerable sum for her teachings but none of them ever seemed to regret it
though the facility itself was just one building there wasn't a single room without a window, I later learned it was done on purpose so one couldn't forget where they were. I thought perhaps one day I would get used to the surroundings but I don't think it ever happened.
Though it was nice to have something distracting to spend my days with I still like the solitude of having my own home and every night after dinner I would take the 45 minute walk back to the house in the gated community.
As the months went by I began to notice more cars, lighted houses and the sound of late night parties beginning to fill the neighborhood. Only during the rainy months did it get quiet again.
I considered working on a garden in the rented house but again but I could never quite convince myself.
I'd often fallen asleep on the back porch, the water was so close I was always careful to not fall in. I watched the still water till I began to feel tired but somewhere in the distance I heard splashing. The splashing continued for some time and even though I didn't hear screaming i wondered if some one was drowning.
The sound didn't sound far away and without thinking I swam towards the noise hoping it was an animal or the wind. I cam closer to the spot where the noise was coming from and I felt something pull me beneath the water.
I remembered to breathe and slowly opened my eyes beneath the water.
A shadow figure appeared before my eyes and as I pushed towards the surface, i was met with the dark hollow eyes of Lucie. She didn't speak and that was not like her.
"Is everything alright ?", I asked her
Her emotions were more real and livid than ever, even when she wasn't speaking.She slowly began to shake her head.
A shadow figure appeared before my eyes and as I pushed towards the surface, i was met with the dark hollow eyes of Lucie. She didn't speak and that was not like her.
"Is everything alright ?", I asked her
Her emotions were more real and livid than ever, even when she wasn't speaking.She slowly began to shake her head.
"This is my fault", she said in a whisper to herself.
"What is ? Lucie--"
"I--I shouldn't have come here.. . I have to fix this"
"Lucie, I beg you not be irrational."
"What ? like Roger was when he--"
"Lucie", I said not wanting to hear those words.
"I'll fix this . . . then we will all be happy. Just stay here"
She began to slowly swim away in the darkness and even though I had been distracted I knew from Essex's book that Lucie's inhumanity was her nature. She couldn't help to be cruel. No matter how hard she tried she would never be able to feel anything human again.
Happiness, least of all.
---
The smell of blood seemed to follow me around as I stumbled off the path and into the vacant town with nothing. It was still dark and I hoped a rain would clear away all the blood.In the years that followed I wondered how many times I had walked up the hill in the course of time, even days when i didn't walk I began to take runs through the trail in the forest. I tried to stay on the path but sometimes I veered off not arriving back till late in the evening.
I should have found the time to call Emile and only once did I send him a letter but I couldn't remember when that was, apart from that I simply sent him packages with antiques I thought he would enjoy.
I was slightly envious of the peaceful way Malika lived her life, still with all the irrational incidents that had occurred in New York I had to hold on to rationality for every choice I made. Emotions were such dangerous and fleeting things. Without realizing it I had made the same mistake twice.
One morning I was sitting outside the main gates of Sivanada as the new set of students arrived. Usually I attempted to avoid the visitors but I was interested because they were from New York.
It was ridiculous to wonder . . . to hope.
Among the group was a man and woman, they were a newlyweds apparently on their honeymoon. I though it was a poor choice considering they would not be allowed to kiss, touch, or share a room but perhaps maybe that was their intention.
They constantly stood close to each other, whispering silently.
I suppose I should have been envious for their belief in such a thing as love. . . and marriage.
I was once again drawn to them during lunch that afternoon. Every now and then one would reach for the other's hand, however only the back of their pointer finger and outstretched thumbs would touch forming a heart.
As much as i tried to avoid the idea seeing the couple made me think of parts of my past I truly thought I had forgotten.
I avoided the couple and people for the rest of the day. I took a long walk on the way back to the house. I wanted to fall asleep as soon as I was inside or I would spend all night trying to figure out why the couple had affected me.
I should have found the time to call Emile and only once did I send him a letter but I couldn't remember when that was, apart from that I simply sent him packages with antiques I thought he would enjoy.
I was slightly envious of the peaceful way Malika lived her life, still with all the irrational incidents that had occurred in New York I had to hold on to rationality for every choice I made. Emotions were such dangerous and fleeting things. Without realizing it I had made the same mistake twice.
One morning I was sitting outside the main gates of Sivanada as the new set of students arrived. Usually I attempted to avoid the visitors but I was interested because they were from New York.
It was ridiculous to wonder . . . to hope.
Among the group was a man and woman, they were a newlyweds apparently on their honeymoon. I though it was a poor choice considering they would not be allowed to kiss, touch, or share a room but perhaps maybe that was their intention.
They constantly stood close to each other, whispering silently.
I suppose I should have been envious for their belief in such a thing as love. . . and marriage.
I was once again drawn to them during lunch that afternoon. Every now and then one would reach for the other's hand, however only the back of their pointer finger and outstretched thumbs would touch forming a heart.
As much as i tried to avoid the idea seeing the couple made me think of parts of my past I truly thought I had forgotten.
I avoided the couple and people for the rest of the day. I took a long walk on the way back to the house. I wanted to fall asleep as soon as I was inside or I would spend all night trying to figure out why the couple had affected me.
-5-
The heat was relentless that night.
My sleep was constantly interrupted and plagued with dark dreams. Water leaking from the roof caused me to open my eyes to the dim light of the room. I felt the water running across the palm of my hand, instead of water a clean stream of red blood ran down my finger tips.
It startled me and now that I was consicous I could smell blood. My clothes and shoes were satured with tiny red spots. Bloody footprints. . . my bloody footprints made a path out the door.
I followed the familiar path out the door, the rain was washing away the imprinted mud, but I could follow the steps all the way up the hill.
For the first time Sivanada appeared to be a dangerous plce but I still continued. I expected the main hall to be empty, instead I was met with the limp bodies of the newlyweds.
Their throats were slits, however that was the least they had suffered. Something compelled me to come closer and I noticed their eyes had been gauged. Their hands fashioned together to form a heart.
I wondered what I would find in the other rooms, it was never like her to leave witnesses. This is why nothing is ever permanent, why I knew it was far more rational not to become attached.
I knew I hadn't done this. . . but once again it didn't change the facts.
My sleep was constantly interrupted and plagued with dark dreams. Water leaking from the roof caused me to open my eyes to the dim light of the room. I felt the water running across the palm of my hand, instead of water a clean stream of red blood ran down my finger tips.
It startled me and now that I was consicous I could smell blood. My clothes and shoes were satured with tiny red spots. Bloody footprints. . . my bloody footprints made a path out the door.
I followed the familiar path out the door, the rain was washing away the imprinted mud, but I could follow the steps all the way up the hill.
For the first time Sivanada appeared to be a dangerous plce but I still continued. I expected the main hall to be empty, instead I was met with the limp bodies of the newlyweds.
Their throats were slits, however that was the least they had suffered. Something compelled me to come closer and I noticed their eyes had been gauged. Their hands fashioned together to form a heart.
I wondered what I would find in the other rooms, it was never like her to leave witnesses. This is why nothing is ever permanent, why I knew it was far more rational not to become attached.
I knew I hadn't done this. . . but once again it didn't change the facts.
The thought of which made me sick again.
No matter how hard I tried I would never get rid of all the blood in the house, erase the evidence. My nerves were shot and the only thing I could do was leave as fast as I could.
I pushed my way past those images and began to consider what I should do next but my mind was clouded. Did I really think I could stay in one place for too long ? That I could really ever get away from Lucie this was what I choose by not killing myself but that was neither here nor there.
"Lucie, how could you be so cruel ?"
As expected she suddenly appeared in front of me.
I slipped on the muddy road, falling just at her feet. She knelt down to my level.
"I'm not", she said, "I didn't do this. . . you have to come with me now."
"Why should I trust you ? All you've done is make my life a living hell."
She turned away at my words.
"In the end. . . I'm the only person you have left."
It was time to start over again
---
The mirror
For some reason it was important
I had used my last check to purchase a ticket to England and collected all the items in my safety deposit and P.O box. I needed to shave and a trim to make myself look presentable. I shuddered at the thought of the hundreds of people I would have to encounter in the airport. I missed the silence.
I didn't recognize myself in the mirror, apart from the obvious I had hoped my reflection would look different. . . perhaps more like a man who appeared to be a few months shy of 30.
I held the sharp in of the well worn razor to my wrist for several seconds, it was tempting. Death seemed to be following me. I did not have to be alone--
+6+
No, that was a weak moment
I ran my pen through the last line till the ink ran over the words and it was as if it had never happened. I began to write again.
. . . shy of 30. I decided I would have to find my own peace with who I was. I am no longer running but a man accepting his fate.
The pain of loss has faded over these years, I can only hope the same for you Ms. DeLune.
A.M Fierro
May '11
I signed my name and as soon as the ink had dried I closed the journal and added it to the stack of others. I placed the books in the hardwood safe that was encompassed in the highest bell tower of the Abbey.
As I reached to shut the safe the twice folded picture slid out from one of the journals. Without even looking at it I picked it up and tore it into a handful of small pieces.
The journals would be best forgotten there.
You will be best forgotten there
The bell began to toll silently behind me. I walked carefully around the old bell. Light as a feather and carefully perched on the lip of the giant bell Lucie enjoyed the view of the Irish countryside and it made her look almost human.
I listened to the bell till late in the night and even still it echoed in my dreams.