When I was in Paris paying a visit to Square du Vert-Galant late at night I had the strangest vision. At the very end of the island I saw the ghost of a woman with her left foot in the water throwing what seemed tiny pieces of paper into it. Those sorrowful eyes and long-drawn movements had me wondering what on earth she was doing there so I approached her slowly but firmly. I delicately asked if I could sit down next to her and to tell me what the problem was.
She told me a story of her loved one marching into war a long time ago. He’d swear to God he would return triumphantly with tons of medals on his chest as the bravest hero of the era, he was so confident they would never lose a battle he’d even stand in the front of the lines all the time. Months went by while she wrote hundreds of letters to him begging him to come home. But after the first one she received all of them back unopened. He became relentless and enjoyed being a soldier.
And as we would guess one day he bought it. Bullet in the stomach. Hearing the news she basically gone crazy. It was my fault, it was my fault – she repeated continuously. I’d weep for weeks and I never talked to anybody – she said. Only a couple of months later she felt a deep twinge in her lower abdomen that felt like a kick. She couldn’t stand up any more and the day after she left to the underworld.
Ever since her soul is forced to come down here to Square du Vert-Galant every year to throw the returned letters into the Seine and mourn over her fiancé. She mean no harm to anybody, don’t be scared if you see her. She only goes there to remember which is not easy to do – so I suggest you not to disturb her during these nights.
We all do require spare time alone with our thoughts.
