Angels and Flies 2: Tell Us All

“I was there…”

Jakob spoke, his bony fingers tracing the fiber of his desk's decomposing wood, upon it laid a contorted cross, and a moldering lute.

In its center rested the half dreaming head of the Hamilton woman who had died almost half a century ago. Catherine and Dashkova sat before him, pupils dilated as they studied the dead thing. As they traced toward the piece of bone that must have been a human's spine. 

Wondered aloud to each if that's what all humans looked like on the inside, how heavy it would be, or if they also had enough blood in them to still keep the cheeks full so long after death. They were children of the Enlightenment, and philosophized as much as men these days with anatomy, mathematics, and social contracts, shameless because it was not shameful.

“The head belonged to a young, unwed beauty. she was a very...vivid sinner. Older people remember her well.”

“Was she a prostitute?”

“No, nor an assassin, traitress, or anarchist. but she did used her body in a most liberal manner while committing great sins, and that was part of the reason for her ordeal.”

“Tell us all. ”

He began, hesitant and afraid. Then-

As if his heart finds an old perfume bottle that remembers, and from which bursts into sudden life a returning soul. A thousand sleeping thoughts reawaken through the fumes of dust.

At once his eyes darted about, as if each remembered image a fresh colliding bullet. His hands would flew to his chin, pensively, trying to aid his pacing brain, correcting, arranging.

Finally he grew still and sighed, paralyzing them with his old man stare

"Lady Hamilton" led a remarkably stormy life. Her Western ways and dress scandalized Moscow, destiny which had played havoc with her young mind. She's not everyone's cup of tea.”

“You spoke as if you knew her not just by reputation-”

“I did.”

“Tell us all.”