Chapter Eight
A magical light filtered through her celestory windows. It was an evening glow, warm and yellow. In the distance, the sky was still blue, but darkening with the approach of night, leaving shadows, long and sensuous across the floors and carpet of her loft. The unexpected fragrance of flowers hit her nostrils with its pungent redolence, a breath of new summery air wafting through the windows off the balcony, mixing with the old air inside. It was a quieter midsummer evening than Caroline had remembered in a long while, a time when her creative muse began to speak, and she was summoned to listen to its haunting strains as they drowned out the nonsense often cluttering her perpetually busy mind.
Paint went on the canvas quickly at moments like these. And though it had been so
