Yesterday upon the stairs....

'Yesterday upon the stairs, I saw a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today, I wish, I wish he'd go away" This text stuck with me from my first creative writing lecture. I thought about it tonight because I have people that are not really there on my garden wall. This is not a real mystery, merely a mechanical erosion phenomenon, nevertheless it does add magic to my night strolls in the garden.
Once upon a time, I felt observed, not by unfriendly eyes, but the feeling was a wee odd and slightly uncomfortable. I stared in front of me, first looking far in the dark corners of the garden, but besides the swift movement of the "Dodson Wabbits" (a story for another time!), I couldn't see anything disturbing. I shook my head and looked again, this time not so far, eager to shake the uneasy feeling and get back to my own thoughts.That's when I saw them.
First I could only make out eyes, then a full child like face. A beautiful girl that could have been drawn by a Gustave Dore in the early 19th century. She bore a proud yet charming expression, and her all attitude just beckoned to me, she was trying to attract attention. On the top of her lovely cherubic face was a sort of Phrygien hat...I decided she was the 'child of the French revolution' maybe Eponine from 'The Miserable' this sweet girl in love with Marius during the insurrection called 'La Commune' in 1871. She could have been this enthralling voice from the score, singing to the night:
" Sometimes I walk alone at night
When everybody else is sleeping
I think of him and then I'm happy
With the company I'm keeping
The city goes to bed
And I can live inside my head"...
Forever engraved on my wall, this young beauty's spirit left a residual image behind her. Did she have a sad story to tell? Did she felt love and not been loved in returned....All that is left is that face. A face you cannot see unless you acknowledge her presence. How long would I see her? I do not know. What I know is that there is a story to tell, it just have to mature in my head, and I will set it free.