When Pierre finally arrived at the safe house, it was empty. A chair by the table was overturned, a broken plate lay on the floor. Nothing else seemed disturbed. Below the loose fireplace brick, he found some money and a letter.
My love! Where are you? I sense danger snapping at my heels–I fear I’ll never see you again. But–
reading what I have just written, I now believe—I MUST believe—we’ll see each again—soon!
Remember our woods, the spring—no one can take away those memories.
All my love forever,
What have I done? he thought, as he shoved the note into his pocket. Grabbing a stale bit of bread he found in a cupboard, he filled his flask and left—not knowing where he was headed, only hoping it was towards her—and not too late.
Back to my spies for a bit of prosery flash for dVerse. Lillian is hosting and asks us to use this line:
“Reading what I have just written, I now believe” from Louise Gluck’s “Afterward.”