Wednesday, April 20, 2005


The broken mirror now thrown out. But memories of those dark days lingers.

He took his coat, dark brown coat. Covers from neck to mid-calf. The type one can imagine an old French police officer would wear. He closed the door behind him. And walked onto the cobbled street. It was a windy autumn evening. Perfect for a walk.

I wonder what she would be wearing. He thought to himself, vivacious girl this one. So full of life.

She brings out the protective instincts in him. Instincts he never knew he had.

He is careful. Careful of the past catching up on him. He is a changed man. The monster vanquished.

Or has it?


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