The years that have gone by have been unfortunate for both parties, Joe was left yearning for a woman who wanted nothing to do with him at this point.

And you were left yearning for him. You weren’t exactly normal, most people weren’t. In this world people were raw and sometimes melancholy, keyboard spines and wooden legs, shield like retractable thorns, it all depended on the person.

Joe was often a realistic man with a one way heart. Except his heart beat for no one else but that woman. She had been constant competition to you, she sings beautiful Spanish lyrics, while you sang melodies, hums in the wind. Most men described it as an Angel singing through the tube of resonance.

The only difference was that Miss Acacia moved to Spain, you moved to France. Joe chose Spain, it broke your heart finding out that he was still wanting her. You felt almost guilty when you felt your heart leap at his letter to you, expressing his disappointment that Miss Acacia’s heart was somewhere else.

So here Joe was, stepping out the carriage and looking to your cabin, a soft blue that almost illuminated the dark around it.

Joe cleared his throat, “May I come in Miss….” He went on

Hesitant to admit he had forgotten your name.