le rossignol rouge

Posted on May 15th, 2007 by solocrow.
Categories: Fiction.

le-rossignol-rouge.jpg

Recovered fragment from the journals of the notorious courtesan, Le Rossignol Rouge:

…he cannot mean it. Where is the boy with the eyes like ferns and the hands like frightened moths? I saw him, dark and melancholy, under the moon-dappled shade of the wisteria-laced bower a fortnight ago. His steps are like sad songs. I suspect he has gone to see Le Loup de Glace. No good can come of it, but what do I care? It is none of my affair. Les Poignards Silencieux will find him in the night, I’m sure.

Then we will see something, oh yes. His father will be ill-pleased; all the better for me.

Damn Il Varro! — that cursed Italian will undoubtedly show at the next meeting of Les Enfants de l’Automne, and I have no wish to cross paths with him again. He wouldn’t know a cortigiana onesta from a pretentiously whorish farmer’s daughter, and I daresay the daughter in question would be hard pressed to distinguish him from his namesake.

I trouble myself over nothing. Etienne will deal with it.

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