Black as Night: A Fairy Tale Retold Read Online Free

man is, by years of unforgiveness.
 Not that I want to change you. But it seems that your past has a hold on you. Do you think that maybe you can’t find peace and direction in your life because, on some level, you won’t forgive?
I can only say this to you because you’re my friend. Maybe seeing so much this summer has made me bolder. Or just more anxious that my friends and family don’t end up like this man.
 I’m sorry if this hurts you. But I thought you should know.
With love,
Blanche
    He turned over the card in his hand, creasing it shut with a touch of resentment. He had to admit it wasn’t altogether unexpected, given the tenor of their last talk, a week ago.
    Thing is, Blanche had no idea how hard it had been. Well, he hadn’t told her much, but she seemed to sense more than he was letting on, as usual. She wanted him to talk about it. He just wanted to put it behind him.
    He rose and genuflected, a little distracted, before turning toward the door. As he did so, a curious disquiet came over him. Why did he suddenly feel as though he were running away?
    All right , he thought, looking back at the white marble statue of the fallen girl and speaking to it as though she were Blanche. All right. You want me to talk about it? We’ll talk.
    Mentally he said a token farewell to St. Cecilia. Once out in the courtyard, he flinched at the heat of the afternoon day as he walked back to the hotel. It was siesta time by now—for everyone except the crazy Americans.
    Up in his room, he quickly dialed Blanche’s number, after calculating the time change. It would be six hours difference—after nine by now. But Blanche usually worked at her catering job till past midnight on Saturday nights, and now she would still be sleeping. I should wait a few hours , he told himself, reining in his sudden emotion.
    Frustrated, he sighed and replaced the receiver. He unfolded the letter and read it again. She was only saying to him what Father Raymond had told him before. And he knew he should do it, but it was going to be difficult.
    Something was odd about the letter, but at first he couldn’t make out what it was. He studied it more closely.
    Blanche’s penmanship was usually precise and perfect, as good as calligraphy. She was a perfectionist that way. But this handwriting was more erratic, almost sloppy. If he hadn’t known before opening it that the letter was from Blanche, he might not have recognized the writing as hers .
     Something’s really agitating her . Had she just been nervous about writing him the letter? Or was it something else? He picked up the phone again and pushed the numbers of the Briers’ home number. He remembered that Blanche’s mom and sister were on vacation, and that Blanche had been alone in the house for the week. All the more reason why he should call to make sure she was all right.
    As the phone made the connection and started to ring, he tried to come up with something to say to Blanche, to explain this unusually timed phone call. If something’s really disturbing her, I’ll hear it in her voice , he told himself.
    And if she was all right…? He wished he could say something groundbreaking to her, but he couldn’t think of any way to begin except, “I got your letter...”
    The phone rang, and rang, and rang, and rang. The answering machine came on. He hung up and dialed again.
    And again.
    And again.
    There was no answer.

Chapter Two
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through.
And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum,
Kept beating, beating till I thought
My Mind was going numb.
    She was aware at once that she was no longer alone. Something had changed in the air—it was alive with breathing and stifled whispers.  
    All of her muscles tensed, and she froze for a moment. No. I have to face this. Then, taking a deep breath, she sat up and turned, her hair sliding over her eyes.
    She