She stepped onto the train, and readily began the process of unwrapping herself. *** Bags, down. Coat, unbuttoned, unzipped. Gracefully, she slips out of it. Scarf, untied, unrolled… …Unleashing her long mane of curly, dark blonde hair. Advertisements
“She invites me in and guides me to her office door. I had expected a dark interior, heavy velvet curtains, Louis XV furniture, old books and antique French tapestry. My imaginings could not have been further from reality.”
“With every step we took, every word we voiced, our bodies and souls expressed the joy we felt to have crossed paths. Though I would not admit it to her or anyone, deep down, I could already sense that we would be walking as one, from then on.”
Warm drops of water are hitting my skin, massaging my flesh, bringing power to my mind and heat to my wintered body. With each pearly touch, my nerves loosen up. Cascading thoughts’ heat take me back to you. Soon enough my hands aren’t mine anymore. They are yours.
“She (…) scrutinized me with the same serious look that had been glued to her face since the morning. (…) That look confirmed my gut feeling, before any of her words did. I hadn’t been imagining anything. There was something beyond the wall. And that something was somehow linked to me.”
Wednesday, May 15th, 1907 I was strolling around in the Jardin des Tuileries, taking deep breaths in and out, trying to open my mind, to be aware of everything around me. I could find inspiration in children playing, people discussing, in the shape of trees, patches of grass and flowers around me.
“She loved those in-between moments, where worlds join and make everything possible. Precious instants that merge dreams and reality, building bridges, creating links she could not even see before.”
“It felt like a nothing disguising a something in hiding. My instinct was telling me there was something, or someone, watching me. It was right there in this wall. I did not know what it was. All I knew was what I could feel, and I was rarely wrong when my senses came to play.”
Shudder, heart racing Palms sweating, smooth clothes fitting Uncomfortably tight Short of breath, breaking Into a run, pain jabbing At my heart, I feel
A light breeze softly Passes, lifts strands of her hair Whispers in her ears
He was working the clay, soaking it in water, making it soft. Preparing the base he would filter by hand. He knew his project would take months, but he had to do it. Surprise her. Win her father over.
She was standing alone Thinking about her boy at home Assembling in her mind A list of groceries She could not afford to buy.