Javert bends over the parapet of the bridge, his hands sunk deep into his side-whiskers. How had he come to this place? He remembers losing his balance when he realized where he was. He remembers staggering on the paving stones, tottering and gripping the rail for dear life (Ha!), his eyes searching the pitch sky and the unnatural swirling below with dawning recognition. But before that? Nothing. A blank slate.
He realizes pre-cise-ly which bridge he has found. It is the Pont-au-Change, with the Palais de Justice looming on one side and Notre-Dame glittering on the other. He is illuminated by the light of a lone street lamp.
What kind of cosmic joke is this?
Javert is too far gone, entrenched in his new way of life on the animal called Tu Vishan to find any despair in this damnable reminder. A fit grips him. His lips split into a broad, manic grin, and he quivers with silent, humorless laughter.
There is not another soul around him.
Except for the eyes. Amidst his chuckling, he feels the palpable sting of a pair of eyes on the back of his head. Javert always had a knack for sensing that.
He shakes his head and swallows back his unsettling, morbid glee.]
I have gone mad. My mind is playing tricks on me, [mutters Javert, the smirk refusing to quit. He calls over his shoulder without straightening or looking away.] You can come out now! I know you are there!
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Javert bends over the parapet of the bridge, his hands sunk deep into his side-whiskers. How had he come to this place? He remembers losing his balance when he realized where he was. He remembers staggering on the paving stones, tottering and gripping the rail for dear life (Ha!), his eyes searching the pitch sky and the unnatural swirling below with dawning recognition. But before that? Nothing. A blank slate.
He realizes pre-cise-ly which bridge he has found. It is the Pont-au-Change, with the Palais de Justice looming on one side and Notre-Dame glittering on the other. He is illuminated by the light of a lone street lamp.
What kind of cosmic joke is this?
Javert is too far gone, entrenched in his new way of life on the animal called Tu Vishan to find any despair in this damnable reminder. A fit grips him. His lips split into a broad, manic grin, and he quivers with silent, humorless laughter.
There is not another soul around him.
Except for the eyes. Amidst his chuckling, he feels the palpable sting of a pair of eyes on the back of his head. Javert always had a knack for sensing that.
He shakes his head and swallows back his unsettling, morbid glee.]
I have gone mad. My mind is playing tricks on me, [mutters Javert, the smirk refusing to quit. He calls over his shoulder without straightening or looking away.] You can come out now! I know you are there!