Hail

The doctor, my prized customer in the months before I quit, was the only guest who came by my apartment. Charlotte spoke only in French, and was impressed by my knowledge of music, regurgitated from the pianist with whom I was still engaged. Once upon a time I was infatuated with the Parisienne who transferred to our high school, but later saw the fiction for what it was. The daughter of an American and a Russian, Louise was nonetheless confined to the ideal I placed on her. Charlotte enjoyed these stories on the long nights when she would fall asleep on my bed, and once told me of Pygmalion. But then Dawn found me in my hiding, dragged me to the Old Port, and told me she was disappearing for good. And true to her word, never could I find her again as she was on that first morning. That very day, I forbade Charlotte, who pleaded to me in English for the first time, from ever coming back.