Writing by Candle-light - Part 8

The night on which Joseph wrote his account of the ephemeral woman, he slept soundly and peacefully for the first in many nights. With no spectres to cloud his mind and no stories screaming for release, Joseph felt calm. Not since his time in Berlin, sharing his thoughts and musings with artisans and philosophers had he been so serene. Had it not been for the noise below his window, Joseph might have slept for many hours.




The commotion that woke Joseph caused very little noise, but Joseph had never slept deeply. Quickly, he moved to his window to look out upon the street below. Joseph moved so fast that he did not notice the small flame from the candle on his desk. As he looked out, Joseph noticed a figure that he instantly knew. Enraptured once again, he wished that this unknown woman would turn to him so that he might know her face.



The woman was moving quickly from under Joseph’s window toward the river. Unlike the last time he had seen her, the night was crisp. On this occasion Joseph could more easily make out the woman’s figure. Though shrouded by the shadows the tenement blocks afforded the street, and the disguise of her cloak, the woman was shapely with a fine air about her. She stepped lightly and delicately along the uneven street.



Slowly the figure stopped as though her way was blocked. Turning with a grace that Joseph had seldom seen, the woman moved to face the door of Joseph’s tenement. Slowly her eyes moved upward to the very window, at which Joseph stood. It a moment, the woman was staring deeply into Joseph’s eyes. How many moments that passed whilst the two stared at each other Joseph knew not, however with each passing moment an unease built within him. It was not long before Joseph felt that if this woman below him did not release him from her stare, he would collapse.



As slowly and gracefully as she had turned to look at him, the woman turned so that she once again faced the river. Released from the woman’s stare Joseph felt cold and, as the candle burnt itself out, alone in the dark. The woman’s gaze had been enticing, bewitching and yet had offered a solace and comfort that he had not known before. Still at the window, Joseph stood wondering what power this woman possessed to enrapture him so. She was a gentle, graceful creature of that Joseph was sure, and yet he had not made her acquaintance.



After some time with his thoughts Joseph turned back into his room. A familiar smell hung in the air and yet Joseph could not identify it. Compelled by unknown reason he moved to his desk, to the candle. The candle that had been several inches tall before he had laid to rest was now burnt to naught. How this could have been Joseph knew not, but he was certain that the smell that hung in the air was that of the burnt wick.



For many nights Joseph would keep watch for the woman and wonder about her. It had seemed important for him to make this woman’s acquaintance; moreover Joseph wished to know what power she had possessed.