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It was wrong. Returning to this city with its familiar life, which she’d never once been granted part of, and yet the allure of Paris was far too strong. The evening threw its dark blanket, casting numerous shadows for her to stride through at her whim. She wandered, ridiculously aimless and sullen until the hour grew late enough and her mind tired enough from sheer repetitious boredom for her to seek some manner of shelter for a spell.

Perhaps a rooftop. Nothing good ever came from lingering on rooftops, and she wasn’t inclined to argue that this lonely night could possibly become worse.

Posted at 1.30pm, on 06/01/13, with 21 notes.

#themaskinthemirror