Francis had feigned nonchalance meeting the young reader the other day at his editor's office, but his brief encounter with Karen had intrigued him.

He was there to see Hawthmore to submit his latest manuscript, along with his resignation. Francis was through playing the role of Author and would be joining a silent retreat, run by Trappist monks who exerted a considerable pull on his spirit, lately.

The fear with meeting any 'fans' would be that they might expect him to wear The Mask, and be someone he no longer identified with. But, past her youthful awe —projecting onto him her own fantasies —he'd intuited something deeper in young Karen: an appetite to know, an impersonal spiritual thirst, perhaps, for an essence he was in possession of.

It was a quarter to 6 in the evening and young Karen should be arriving, soon--if not, Francis intended to leave a notice at the front desk that he was no longer available.

Inspired by Greek poet, Cavafy, whom he admired, his sprawling rooftop balcony was illumined by candles. According to an anecdote, Cavafy (something of a hermit) would receive guests in this manner, and begin to extinguish candles if the conversation did not hold his interest. When the last candle was out, this signaled that the evening was over. Francis intended to put this into practice, tonight.

6 pm sharp, Gabriel, his long-time assistant, escorted a smartly-dressed Karen onto the roof. Apparently, she'd been, patiently, waiting in the lobby since 5 pm, reading and writing in her journal. Francis smiled and squirmed a little when Gabriel whispered this to him, in private. The young reader was clearly nervous, and Gabriel suggested a drink. "I'm having Araq" Francis offered.

"It's an anise-flavored aperitif from Lebanon, quite similar to Ouzo, in Greece, or Ricard in France..." "Thank you" she interrupted with deference, but also an unexpected confidence which he found refreshing. "I won't keep you long," she said and repeated that curious phrase "I just need 5-10 minutes of you"

"Well, here I am!" Francis responded with a smile, taking her gracefully-worn-at the elbows, technicolor coat. Karen also offered him her bag, laden with books. "Good God, whoever do you have in there!" Francis teased. "Will I become an accomplice to something unseemly by taking this valise into my home?" Karen smiled at his little joke, and shot back,

"Whatever is in there, Sir, you're guilty of--it's got your name written all over it," and she produced a few of his books to show him. Now, it was Francis' turn to be somewhat embarrassed. "That's very kind, would you like for me to sign them?" he inquired. "Only, if you'd like" she answered, beaming as she took in the twinkling candles and the city view from on high.

"But, first I want to ask you a question? Why did you start writing and, more importantly, why do you want to stop, now?"
Francis dropped his drink, visibly shaken, the glass splintering into countless iridescent shards that lay all around their feet...

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"What... How... Why... Why would you say such a thing?" he sputtered, clearly unnerved.
Karen was perfectly calm, locked eyes with him and spoke, deliberately, with a composure that was almost a challenge. "Because, I feel I know you, Francis. Because I read between your lines and you've been confessing in code, for years, now." They both stood in silence, soul-gazing it seemed for a short eternity.

Francis swayed from side to side, as though in a trance. Some sort of shift in power was taking place, here. He entertained the possibility that this meeting might be destined, that Karen did know him, and could even hold answers for him, regarding the next steps he needed to take...

Slowly, like dancers, they both lowered themselves to the ground and, carefully, began to pick up the larger pieces of glass by their feet, and set them out aside. "Is it terrible that I'm happy to see you this way, the real you?" she muttered, just above a whisper, as though speaking to herself. "This way you might tell me what I need to know..."

"Let's have a seat", Francis exhaled deeply, "Gabriel can take care of this." And, he nearly collapsed onto the lavender divan by the entrance. His head was spinning as Karen, gingerly, sat down next to him. He began: "Young lady, I really don't know how much I can say to you, tonight, but I deeply believe in discretion, taste, elegance... Certain secrets require trust and this must be earned, my new friend, over time."

She was nodding, now, and still studying him with that cool aloofness. "You're not accustomed to speaking to strangers this way, I understand. But, if you let me, I can help you. And, I sense you can help me, too. Sorry, I'm not good with formalities. I speak Spirit, and I know you do, too."

Francis was shaking his head in disbelief at her forwardness. There was something hallucinatory about this entire encounter, like something out of a dream he'd had, or a parable he might write. But, he also believed in such direct transmission and, as she said, that he might have something for her and she for him.
"Here's my card", he gently said, after an overlong silence.

"I'm a little out of sorts at the moment, but we might keep in touch via email, perhaps." Karen sprung to her feet, as if anticipating this response, almost snatched the card out of his hand and said, hungrily, "That's it, Francis, we're going to be great pen pals! I won't take more of your time."
And, with that, she marched to the door and left, without even collecting her book bag...

Special Thanks for the collaboration with @yahialababidi for the creation and embodiment of the character Francis. All thanks and gratitude for this chapter belongs solely to @yahialababidi. He wrote all the words for this chapter for both characters. This last paragraph has been edited In my original posting I failed to make it clear that all the words in this post were written by @yahialababidi. I apologize. This was a major mistake on my part one that has cost me dearly. I have learned from this mistake that we must make sure to always make clear even in a collaboration who did what and always give full credit to the writers or the artist in all of their respective genres. An intentional mistake was made which led to some comments below of that thought I wrote it. Well once again let me be clear for this post Chapter two -part two all the words for this post, the character Francis and Karen were written by the highly esteemed @yahialababidi, Poet, Aphorist, Essayist and Literary Artist He is also the author of 6 critically - acclaimed books. whose work that I know in no way do I measure up to. I am honored that he agreed to write for this series.

Image Cover Art Painting -

Full Moon Mardi Gras

• a collaborative courtesy of @inksanity

Image 2- journeytoorthodoxy.com

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https://discord.gg/RqBjNeb