Paris
Liège
/ Berlin
There
was a green woollen shawl hanging over the back of the chaise longue. Léonie
wrapped it around her shoulders, turned down the gas lamp and curled up in her
favourite armchair, her legs tucked beneath her. Suddenly, from the floor beneath,
the sound of music began to filter up through the floorboards. She smiled. Achille
at his piano again. She looked at the clock on the mantelshelf. Past midnight.
Sepulchre,
hardback p39
Image © Mark Rusher
