A journey through the city of love with a heart and mind consumed by anger and hatred. In a pale hand graps a small, cold key - a skeleton’s key. Booted feet stomp through thick snow as quick as humanly possible, and a mumble escapes through parted, cherry lips only to be heard through keen ears nearby.
“Fake? Ha! I’ll show you.”
“Excuse me, madame?” A few more grumbles. “M.. madame!” The angry, fast-paced trudging halts, and breaths exhaled from the burning lungs of the woman proclaim visibility to the public, taking form of a thin, short-lived cloud.
The man’s fancy shoes exits the soft carpet of his apartment complex and into the outside, coated ground, making his way to whom he had called out to. “Madame, it is cold. Please, come inside.” He spoke genuinely, holding his large, smoothe hand out for the smaller woman to take.
Moving hesitantly, her free, petite hand seized the french man’s warm, out-stretched hand, causing a welcoming smile to appear on his face. He turned and began leading the foreign woman towards the warmth of his own building.
As she held onto the hand of this man and followed along after him, the lady’s deep red scarf waved in the wind pass a bronze, winged idol decorating the frozen water fountain after her figure had done the same.
The emerald pair of eyes focus on his clothed back, entraced and forgetful of her previous, anger-fueled mission, and the snow gulped the silver, engraved key into nonexistence.
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