When Joseph first arrived at his rooms he was appalled by the lack of manners and intellect shown to him by his landlord. He had remembered thinking that the street was little more than an open sewer, home to some of the basest creatures that barely passed for humans. Joseph had strained to understand how such a place could have been a part of God’s creation. Even the most elaborate furnishings could not have made any great difference in the constant struggle against the decay.
On his first night in his simple accommodation, Joseph spent little time sleeping. His mind came alight with all manner of ideas which would not be silenced. That night would be the first of many that he paced back and forth trying to silence the voices that whispered to him in the dark. The voices that spoke nearly drove Joseph to the edge of madness on that first night. Caged like wild beasts he was unable to drive away the many figments and phantoms that his mind conjured.
By the little light a handful of candles offered him, Joseph sat at his desk and began to brood further. Leaning deep into the embrace of his chair Joseph stared at the candle, watching as the flame devoured the wick. In the bright yellow of the flame Joseph would have laid down an oath that he could, if he looked deeply enough, part the veil and peer into the future itself. In those short and peaceful moments Joseph saw a life of wealth and power lain before him. With the inheritance that was due to him Joseph knew that there would be few obligations upon him.
Enraptured by the small flame and the dull light it offered, Joseph did not notice the night pass away and the sun begin to rise through the autumn mists. Using his arm to steady him, Joseph noticed the chill in the air as he rose out of the chair. Reaching out his fingers Joseph smothered the flame. In haste Joseph moved to the small window to take a glimpse of the first morning in his new home.
It was then, on the street below that fate’s guiding hand presented Joseph with a new destiny. At first the figure had been little more than a shadow passing through the mist. As the figure drew closer Joseph could see something about this woman. There, below him, was someone who could not be touched by the decay of the area. Her hair, a deep chestnut waterfall, reached down below her shoulders in thick waves. Her way of walking was far finer than any of the accomplished women that had moved in his father’s society. He knew little about her and yet in that moment Joseph was shown that she was everything he could ever want.
Silently and with an unexpected air she walked below Joseph. For just a moment this unknown woman stopped, frozen below him. His heart paused, stirring a hope within him that she would just glance up at him. Joseph knew then why it was he had chosen such a wild and untamed area in which to lodge during his education. He had longed for something more than the veneer of civilisation that finer quarters would have offered. Something honest lay within the lower echelons, this he had learnt during his time in Berlin. The people of this area, the woman who had passed before him, whilst below his station knew the truths of the world.
As the woman passed out of sight Joseph continued to watch the mist into which she had disappeared. What quality had she, that none before had?
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