A mysterious package arrived by courier. A thin box, lightweight. The handwriting on the lid was familiar. The fleur de lys on the front told me all I needed to know about the sender. The postmark, Paris, it had to be….could it be? Was it time?
I opened the box and my skin went cold, and the hair on the back of my neck bristled and tingled. Someone was there, right behind me, or did I imagine it?
The letter was from Gabriel. I recognised the elegant sloping style of his penmanship. The words mean little, obligatory chit chat to throw the spies off the scent. It was not his name at the end of the letter. It was signed and sealed with his masque de bal.
The little symbol spoke volumes to me: the need for secrecy and discretion was paramount. The real message was not in the words but in the music, and only one man could decipher it. Armand, the blind musician.
The winged doll, a symbol of Gabriel, was my passport and guarantee of safe passage, first to Armand and then onto Paris to see Gabriel. All would be revealed, in time, when I needed to know. I had to have faith in Gabriel and trust in Armand…it was time.
The story will continue…
<Mixed Media artwork, concept and story (c) 2009 Melanie Dooley>