When she was a child, she used to spend her time looking paintings and old photographs. She really loved them, the compositions and the lights, the living forms turned into living corpses and the hidden essence of the cruel nature. She collected everything about arts and she tried secretly to imitate in her drawings the smiling inner scent of the character she loved. I saw love in them, I saw love in their crying and I saw love in their fallings.
‘Maybe,’ she used to say years later, ‘it was the reason I’ve tried to smile my whole life.’
Frankfurt. Thirteen days before Day I
‘We have it, boss.’ Lorraine said.
‘Is he fine?’ The director answered. ‘What the hell happened with that stupid doctor? Take him here now!’ She knew what to do in these cases.
‘I’ve sent someone to take him, boss. You can be sure he won’t lose him.’
Paris, France. About five years before Day I
She knew him years ago during some art lectures about Baroque art in Boston. She noticed that man looked like an unemployed and lazy man wearing an elegant suite. She used to catch the attention of men, but this one didn’t look at her for two days. What happened with him?
‘You like the lectures?’ She asked to him.
‘Not so much.’ He finally answered.
‘Do you want to take a coffee?’
‘I would prefer something harder.’
Since then, they were something like friends. She was not wrong with her first impression. He has no steady job and he didn’t look like he had needed it.
‘If someday I need one, you might be sure I won’t be able to find it.’
She was fired from her last job two months ago, so she has nothing to do in that marvelous City of Love. She decided to go to some lectures trying to be busy until she received some news from the U.S. In fact, she had not great expectations about find a new job and she liked it: nothing to think, nothing to do, just enjoy that city she loved since she was a girl and came here with her parents. See it, Lorraine? I see, Mom. Monuments and paintings and arts and sculptures and everything a city could offer to someone.
When she was 18, she went to the University to study Fine Arts and she met him: François, handsome François.
‘You like whiskey?’ Her new friend asked. Once and for all, her new friend was much entertaining than the conferences. ‘Let me introduce myself. My name is William Wilson.’