Lucas stopped in front of an old-style villa. Pink roses were growing outside, and the lawn was meticulously maintained. He looked up at the first window on the second floor and willed the drapes to open. Alas, he was no magician, and they did not bend to his will. He sighed as he whispered his love's name: "Doris…"
He assumed that she was asleep, and he didn't dare wake her. He thought – I wonder what she dreams about, and if she dreams of me. This line of inquiry was painful, and he moved his feet around in his shoes, using the physical pain to distract his mind from the emotional pain. At this point in his life, there were few things that he didn't regret, and letting go of Doris was number one on the list.
Lucas walked over to a sycamore tree that was on the lawn and sat beneath it.
