Spitfire and the Objects of Desire

You! Jacques sees you. You cannot hide from me, my friend. Come, let me enchant you with a story.

Have you ever felt so insignificant that you wanted to disappear? To make all your suffering come to a halt? Ah, well, I’ve heard of such a person. She was a young Hindu woman from the German Orient, and she was determined to invent a machine that could make her a fortune. If she were rich, so long steel mill, goodbye searing hot desert. But to escape all suffering is a tall order, non? There is much standing in the way; time, money, parts, and a teensy tiny, hardly noticeable martyr syndrome.

Wait, don’t go. I know what it is. My friend, you should have told me. You want to be seen as you truly are, to appear before the world in all your uninhibited glory! You are in good hands, for I know of a French Athenian woman in the same predicament. She was a dancer at the Folies Bergère who could not dance, who could not even function right without her soul. It had been taken from her, spirited to a realm she had tried to access every night in vain. To live free, to be herself, to have the husband and children of her dreams, her soul must be found.

Perhaps these two young women have something in common? Perhaps they can help one another? Perhaps they need one another on this precarious journey toward finding completeness? You will find the answers within, of course. Jacques would never lead you astray!

Ah, well. Carry on, my friend. I understand. You are on vacation, and there is a great beautiful city waiting to be explored. You do not at this time long for a lingering tale, full of art nouveau, impressionism, and exotic nymphs. But I do believe you’ll be back. Au revoir!