Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, even though they seem to have taken up residence in my brain.Reviews are always welcome.
There is so much light. Everywhere I go, brightness. In summer, he takes me home, to Stockholm, where there is no night at all. The walls of our house are white, pale yellow, dove grey, with electric fixtures everywhere, even a small lamp by the bed that is never turned off. I close my eyes, and still I see light.
Somehow, I am always dressed in soft colors, pale jewels. In the nursery, there are alabaster walls, blond wood, the baby dressed in white. A dim lamp shines there, too, all through the night. The child himself is pale, fair-haired and blue-eyed like his father.
Everywhere, light. It has taken away my voice, this illumination everywhere, this eternal day. Things have been easier for me because of it, as I have tried to remake myself into a woman of society, a respectable person whom the rich and noble will not snub. If I sang at concerts or at parties after dinner, they would be reminded that I am a usurper. But I am silent, and that helps. I have learnt to embroider cushions and fine linens for the church altar. Even there I stand silent, staring up at the faces of the stone angels, so still and calm and not at all like the faces of angels I have known.
There are lamps in the streets where we live, and it is a world of incandescent bulbs, candelabra, glittering jewels. The "Lights of Society," they are called. The "City of Lights." Did you know? If you stand in a dim room in the deepness of night, a window becomes a mirror. It holds the darkness away.
This is what I asked for. Raoul is all kindness, all tenderness. My life has been transformed to one of smiles and of quiet. I have no music at all.
God, I miss the dark.