From The Bank of The Hjalmaaren (2)

Under The Veil, one could see that such a bright future awaits. A broad window on the left, through which you could see the majestic view of the Lake of Hjalmaaren. A bird on the fireplace was seen as though she was chirping while all that was left was merely. Silence. Total tranquility.

She put down the fire woods that Jean Luc harvested just a few moments ago. Outside she could hear Henry and Therry laughing, their laughter that made her heaven here upon Earth.

Suddenly for a split second, she returned on a journey back in time. The time when eyes were still blurry by the chemotherapy, the time when laughter of other's sounded so pleasing yet irritating, yet envying. But now those laughters, that occured exactly where she wished she could do along with Arthur, Any, and Al back then...were the ones that she wished she could spent time with just even more than the previous . The gay laughter that sounded just beneath the white veil, across the White Little Chamber, among the Roses in The Garden.

***

Honey, the shrilling voice she always missed and made her smile at the same time, echoed from the alley towards The Little White Chamber. The tingling of the little bell of The Church sounded from far away, marking the beginning of the first mass today. Today felt just like ten years ago, how the time flew. The odour of the fresh lavender lavenders dispersing, as always, a reminiscing scent of a nuance that reminding ones of old times. An epiphany.

What are you doing here? Ah, that smile. That nose. Those broad, big, innocent eyes! She was so grateful that The Creator had inherited them all to each of her precious. The smile, she could reflect to Therry's. The eyes, she could recall from Henry's. The voice... well, not each of them got it, but the brain.... each of them did. Everyday in the family lounge back in Grenoble, each day that after Therryana herself finished read them a new verse of The Illiad, was the time when each of the two lovely boys recited her their newer memories of Mozart's adagio, or maybe Ali's Balaghah, or maybe even one or two proses of Goethe's Faust.

I am lighting the fireplace, said she, kissing her husband's forehead. Britta will come at seven.

Britta now had already her own family. She had a baby girl, whom she named Vasilissa, after Therryana.

Ah, an apollo! the shrilling voice shrilled excitedly, opening up the window, letting in the breezing weather. The sunny sky was before him. Outside, a view of the side yard, Henry and Therry wrestling along the hilly part.

Honey, are you kidding? Therryana giggled amusedly, but she then herself went ascilenced, as her own eyes saw the butterfly as well.

The white, transparent-winged butterfly drifted inside the Chamber, before then sailed the air back outside, towards the far end of the Lake of Hjalmaaren.

An apollo amidst the breezing weather of summer in Hjalmaaren? That was rare.