A torn and crumpled sheet of lavender stationery lies in grass alongside the pathway to town.
Basket in arm, on her way to market, Marie spies the leaves of paper amidst blades of grass and stoops to pick it out and shake it free of morning dew.
With a sharp intake of breath, the young and susceptible lady takes in the newborn words springing from some unknown poet's bursting heart. Unprepared for such emotional onslaught, Marie's heart cleaves in two, bleeding unstanched as worlds of both light and darkness comingle within and without her hapless soul.